


All I Ever Wanted

by Geoffreyofmonmouth



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Condoms, Drama, M/M, Romance, one commenter said they stopped reading my fic because I used condoms, yeah I need a condoms warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 17:19:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 40,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/600236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geoffreyofmonmouth/pseuds/Geoffreyofmonmouth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry wants what Louis has, a stable romance, with lots of love.  He wishes for it from Louis, but only in his drunk moments.  Louis sets him up with a girl, and while there's no spark, the way there was when he and Louis first met, Harry persists with the relationship.  All he wants is a chance at happiness, but what to do about his feelings for Louis, especially when it seems Louis might return them?</p>
            </blockquote>





	All I Ever Wanted

**Author's Note:**

> Stick with this one, guys. The first scene is clumsy, but it gets better.
> 
> Originally posted on One Direction Fanfiction on 2012-10-05. I'm following it up with another fic I also posted to One Direction Fanfiction.
> 
> ***

"So, what do you look for in a girl, Harry?"

Not that question again, Harry thought. As he answered it by rote, and the other guys followed suit, he wondered how Stephen Gately from Boyzone had felt, being asked that question over and over again, knowing he was gay. Harry knew a lot about other boy bands. He rembered hearing about Stephen's death, and how sad it seemed in particular that he'd been struck down at such a young age. He was thinking about Stephen Gately because Harry himself was bisexual. He'd just never slept with a guy. There was only one guy in the world for him, and he couldn't have him, and there were no two ways about it. So he kept answering inane questions about girls, putting up with it. The fact that Louis had gone on twitter and totally denied 'Larry' was the final nail in the coffin.

"Harry? Harry? What are you thinking about, Harry?" Louis was poking him in the side.

"Oh, sorry, did you ask me a question?" Harry turned back to the interviewer.

"Penny for your thoughts," said the interviewer.

"I was thinking about Stephen Gately from Boyzone," said Harry honestly, but then added, "I was thinking how you could have it all one day, and then the next day have it all abruptly taken from you. Any one of us could die, any time."

The other guys started teasing him, for being so serious all of a sudden. Louis was saying, practically in his ear, "Would you miss me, Harry? Would you?"

For a second, Harry imagined life without Louis. A bolt of darkness shot through him, so that he almost gasped. Of course, if he lost any of his brothers, that would be the end of things. He couldn't imagine going on as a band without them all intact. 

"I just think it's important to think about, that's all. It's important to appreciate everything you have," he defended himself from the teasing. He didn't know why he was having such serious thoughts. He'd woken up in a funny mood and hadn't been able to shake it so far. When he'd woken up, Louis had been singing softly in the bathroom and Harry had lain awake for a while, listening, trying not to feel like he was intruding, since Louis obviously thought he was being quiet. He was singing a song Harry didn't know, and although he tried to make out the individual words, he couldn't. Then things went silent and the next thing he knew, Louis was banging on his door, "Time to get up, Hazza! Responsibilities!" He'd dragged himself out of bed, feeling vaguely melancholic. He'd wandered down to the kitchen in his underwear where Louis was looking in the fridge as if somehow a miraculous breakfast would appear. 

"Don't cook anything," said Harry.

"Why not?" Louis looked at him with innocent eyes. Deliberately innocent.

"Because we don't have time to wait for the fire department to come out."

Louis smiled, a big cheery smile, at him, and took out the milk. "Stop teasing. You know I've improved since I started dating Eleanor." He put the milk down on the bench. "Breakfast cereal, then. Shall I get you a bowl?" Harry just looked at him. "Oh, come on, Harry, even I can't ruin a bowl of cereal. Go and get changed and you'll have a nice soggy mass of cereal to eat, just the way you like it."

Harry didn't know why, but he wanted to keep watching Louis. He wanted to watch Louis without Louis noticing, though, to see what he was like when not around Harry, whether he was still as cheery, as perky, as he was around Harry. Harry wanted to know if he made Louis feel that way, whether the smile would leave his face when Harry left, whether he'd feel a little lessened, the way Harry felt when he wasn't around Louis. 

Louis turned from the pantry to see him still standing there. He walked up to Harry, turned him around, and walked him back to his room, hands on his shoulders. "Wake up, sleepyhead. Get dressed." Louis had deposited him in his room and left to make breakfast, with soggy cereal, just the way Harry liked it.

The impression of that morning swept over him all at once; it took no more than a couple of seconds. Meanwhile, the rest of the guys left off teasing him as the interviewer asked Zayn a question. Harry sat silently, feeling contemplative but not contemplating much at all, as the interview went on around him. He felt very aware of Louis sitting beside him, their thighs touching. Mostly that was all he was aware of, that and the way Louis occasionally, accidentally nudged him.

He turned to Louis and whispered into the shell of his ear, "I don't want to be here."

"Why are you so depressed, Harry Styles? I noticed it this morning, even though you made a joke."

"I don't know, I just-"

The interviewer stuck his microphone practically in Harry's mouth at that point, so that his next words "-feel like I'm going through something." came echoing out around him. Great. Everyone had heard that, including everyone listening to the interview.

"What do you feel like you're going through, Harry?" asked the interviewer, even though that had obviously been private between him and Louis.

"I don't know. Just a feeling of change coming, I guess," he answered politely, ignoring the interviewer's rudeness.

"A tidal wave?" said Niall.

"No, not like a tidal wave, not something that changes everybody, just something that changes me."

Niall immediately flung himself from his seat between Zayn and Liam against Harry. It was unlike Niall to be so public in his display of affection. Normally that was the job of the others. "Don't change, Harry."

"I don't mean a big, nasty change," Harry reassured Niall, showing him his tattoo. "I mean, I'm just looking at things differently, lately."

"But we're still your best mates, right?"

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

Niall seemed satisfied and bounced himself back down between Zayn and Liam. Niall's little insecurities showing up again. Harry smiled at him, to show he was telling the truth, then turned to Louis, who was rubbing his chest where Niall's elbow had caught him. "You okay, Louis?"

"Nothing a litle bit of air wouldn't help," said Louis, but he smiled his trademark wide grin so Harry knew everything was okay.

"Sorry, Louis," said Niall.

"It's okay, Niall."

The interviewer cleared his throat, as if to remind them the attention was supposed to be on him, not them. Harry didn't like this interviewer. The only thing he could do worse would be to touch up Louis, like that interviewer ages ago had done. Fortunately he seemed to be keeping his hands--if not his microphone--to himself.

Or maybe not. "Can I feel your hair, Harry?" the man asked.

Harry felt Louis' hand immediately go into his hair. "I'd rather you didn't,"Harry said, feeling Louis' hand play with his curls possessively.

"I just wanted to know if you use product in your hair or if it's that way naturally."

Louis didn't take his hand away. "It's all natural," Louis assured the interviewer and Harry nodded. This interviewer was really pushy. It was only when the interviewer moved onto another topic that Louis stopped playing with Harry's hair. Harry missed it, but not as much as he would have if they'd been in private. Louis sometimes played with his hair in private and it made him feel good. Maybe there were a lot of nerve endings on the scalp.

Finally, the interview was over. Harry shook the man's hand, even though he really didn't want to, and left first. Another man pointed to him the way to go. Louis followed him into the back hall of the TV channel soon afterwards. "You all right, mate?" he asked, putting an arm around Harry's shoulder.

"I'm fine. It's nothing."

"That guy was really rude," observed Louis, taking his arm away.

"Yeah, I didn't like him much."

"Fancy wanting to touch your hair! Has he no concept of boundaries?"

"I know!" Harry hastily added, "You know you can touch my hair any time you want. Just not random interviewers."

"Even if you hated it, I wouldn't be able to help myself," grinned Louis, quickly tousling his hair again before falling back to talk to the other guys.

"Never again with that guy," Niall was saying, so it wasn't only him. Harry was relieved they all seemed to be in agreement. He'd hate to sow any seeds of disharmony in the band.

***

They all bundled into the limousine, set to take them to their next engagement. Today was going to be a mass of interviews, the last thing Harry felt like doing, but he had no choice in the matter. Fortunately this was for a magazine, so there'd be no filming. Just photographing. 

"...Harry?" Liam was saying from the seat across from him.

"What's that, Liam?"

"Are you okay? All that depressing talk about Stephen Edgely..."

"I'm fine," said Harry. "I'm just being thoughtful today."

"You need to hang a sign on yourself. 'Do Not Disturb'," said Louis, next to Liam. "Just so we know that you're thinking and it's not your usual face."

The other guys all laughed, but Harry didn't feel like it, so he didn't. Yes, it was funny, but right now he didn't feel like being the butt of anyone's jokes, even Louis'. The other guys continued to trade banter while Harry stared out the window opposite, between Louis and Liam. What if this moment was to be his last? What would it consist of? A view of London, severely tinted, Louis and Liam in his sights, Zayn and Niall in his periphery. Five of his most favourite people in the world, aside from his own family; a boy couldn't die happier, could he? There was something missing, though. A loved one. Someone who he loved and who truly loved him back. Liam had that with Danielle, Louis had it with Eleanor; Harry had it with nobody. Had never had. Certainly that affair with Lucy Horobin didn't count. That was all about sex. Harry knew he was young, but knew also there was more to a relationship than hot sex. Someone who would be there for you, as you would be for them; no sneaking around, worrying about the other's husband finding out. He needed a date. He'd needed a date for a while, but no opportunity had presented itself. Or rather, several possibilities had, and he had trouble choosing. So many girls seemed to want him. He was the most popular in the band and it ate at him. Why not Zayn, with his girl-pulling power? Why not Niall, with his sweet face and ways? Why not Liam, with his down-to-earth manner, always keeping them grounded? Why not Louis? Why not Louis, because... he examined Louis, trying to put into words the way he felt. His smile. His confidence. His voice. Why not Louis, who was in some way really the leader of One Direction? He took the initiative in interviews, he mingled happily with the fans, he was there if any of the guys needed help. When Harry needed help. Louis was always there. Eleanor was one lucky girl.

They arrived at the next interview and were escorted, amongst a hoard of screaming fans, towards the entrance. Honestly, their fans knew their schedule better than he did. 

This time the interviewer was a lady. It didn't make Harry feel any less on edge. He still remembered that interview where he got forced into a 'makeover' of sorts. He wasn't going to volunteer for anything again, ever. 

"How do you feel about the success of 'Take Me Home'?" asked the interviewer. "Is it something you expected or is it a surprise?"

Louis answered for them, as he so often did. "I think it's a surprise. We were all worried we would be one-hit wonders, so the success of the album has really taken us by surprise."

"You're not used to it?"

"We'll never be used to it, I think," said Liam. "It's always going to be an amazing feeling when your album goes number one."

She continued on, asking similar questions to the last interviewer. Eventually she turned to him. "Harry, you've not had much to say so far. Any reason?"

"The boys are saying exactly what I feel," said Harry.

"How does it feel, being the most popular member of the band?"

"Weird, really. I don't know why Zayn isn't, or Niall, or Liam, or Louis."

"You don't appreciate your looks?"

"I like the way I look," said Harry, "it's just that I think there's others more attractive than me."

"Well, millions of girls around the country would like to disagree with you."

"No, we all think Harry's the best looking," said Louis, not helping matters. "It's the curls. Chicks dig the curls."

"You dig my curls," said Harry, and then nearly died on the spot. What was he saying?

"I do. I love them," said Louis, running his hands through Harry's hair. "I wish I had curly hair. I don't know why Liam straightened his. He looks so much better with his curls showing."

"I agree," said Zayn, removing the attention from himself and Louis for the moment.

"You really dig my curls?" Harry whispered to Louis.

Louis put both his hands up to Harry's ear. "You know I dig your curls. I've dug them from day one."

"Sometimes I hate my curls," Harry whispered back. "Sometimes I wish I had your hair."

"My hair? My hair does nothing unless I put something in it. Yours is all natural."

"It can be a pain, though."

"Harry, Louis, care to let us in on the discussion?" asked the interviewer. 

"No," said Harry, blushing.

"That's all right. I have another question for you. Harry, if you could take a girl on a date, anywhere in the world, which city would you take her to?"

"Oh, um, probably Paris. Or Istanbul."

"Paris or Istanbul? Now there's a contrast."

"Well, Paris is known for romance, while Istanbul is more out there, you know?"

"I certainly do know what you mean. Louis, how would you answer the question?"

As the interviewer cycled through his bandmates, Harry wondered, Istanbul? Did he say that because it was something different, or because it was really somewhere he wanted to go? No, it was really somewhere he wanted to go, he decided. The history behind Istanbul was incredible. He'd read an article on it in National Geographic, and it had piqued his curiousity ever since.

The interview continued for another tortorous twenty minutes, before the interviewer decided she had all she needed. 

Then they were free to go; onto another interview. Would the day ever end, Harry wondered?

***

The next morning, Harry couldn't be bothered to get out of bed. He sat up, pulled the covers up, and switched on the TV. It was tuned into a music channel, as usual. He flicked through the channels, not really lingering long enough on anything to see whether it interested him or not. 

"Harry, you up?" Louis called from outside the door.

"Come in," said Harry. 

Louis entered, looking all fresh and clean, his hair slowly drying, dragging in his eyes a bit. "Are you getting up?"

"No," said Harry.

"We've got that photoshoot this afternoon."

"I know."

"So until then you're just going to hang out here?"

"I thought I would."

"Breakfast?"

"No."

"A cup of tea?"

"Yes, please," said Harry, and Louis left the room. He came back some time later with two cups of tea. Harry moved over in the bed so Louis had room to sit. Louis handed him both cups, and settled on the bed against the headboard, before taking one cup back. He was barefoot, Harry noticed.

"What are we watching?"

"Nothing."

"Harry, you sound so melancholic. You're making me sad."

Harry sighed, deeply. "I feel like I'm missing something."

"You've forgotten something, or...?

"I'm missing out on something in life."

"We live the dream life. What could you possibly be missing out on? Now, surfing, but that's your choice. Choc-banana smoothies, again, your choice." Louis went into a list of things that Harry didn't do or didn't like. Harry felt himself smiling, despite his melancholy. 

"Louis-"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Stop. You're making me smile."

"And that's such a terrible thing."

"I want to wallow in my melancholy," said Harry.

"But seriously, what could possibly be missing?"

"A romance."

"Ah. Well, you've had plenty of offers, and I've personally seen plenty of girls coming back with you at night: why don't you take one up?"

"Because I haven't really liked any of them for long enough. Remember how Eleanor and you met? Do you have any friends of friends I haven't met?"

"I'm sure I do."

"Forget that," said Harry, shaking his head. "What am I saying? I don't want to be set up on a blind date."

"I might have just the girl for you. She's a friend of Eleanor's."

"So I might know her already."

"You might, and you might not. Why not give it a try?"

"Noooo..."

"You'll never know if you don't try. You could be passing up your soul mate."

Harry pondered the words 'soul mate'. Did they always have to refer to romance? He couldn't imagine getting closer to a person than he was with Louis, but then again, he was inexperienced. Maybe there was a whole extra dimension out there, waiting to be discovered.

"All right," he found himself saying.

Louis patted him on the shoulder. "That's my boy. How about this Saturday?"

"If you and Eleanor come, too."

"We can do that. A double date. That should be fun. Oh, look, it's Justin Bieber." Louis pointed to the TV. 

Harry could already hear it. He flicked channels again. Madonna. He flicked again.

"No wait. Let's watch Madonna."

Harry obligingly flipped back. His shoulders were cold. He should put a shirt on, or something. But he felt too lazy to move. He clicked the information button. It was a Madonna retrospective.

"Madonna retrospective," read Louis. "We could do worse."

"How old is she, now?"

"Fifty-something."

"Can you imagine still doing this at the age of fifty?"

"We wouldn't be a boy band anymore, we'd be an old men band."

"U2's an old men band and they do all right," Harry pointed out.

"But unfortunately none of us are Bono or The Edge. We have yet to redefine music."

"Maybe we will one day."

"Maybe. If Niall keeps up his songwriting progress. My feet are cold."

"Get under, stupid," said Harry, and Louis obligingly hopped up and got into the bed properly. 

"I'm clean," Louis promised him.

"I can smell that you are."

"Have you been sniffing me, Harry Styles?"

Harry giggled. "No."

"You have. And you think I smell nice, too, don't you?" Louis grabbed Harry's head and stuffed it under his jumper. 

"Louis!" said Harry, face against Louis' t-shirt, voice muffled by Louis' jumper. 

"You've been dying to do that, I know," laughed Louis.

"Let me up!"

Louis eventually let him out, after making sure Harry's hair was full of his jumper's wool. Harry shook his head again and again, trying to get the fluff out. 

"Aw, you're like a little puppy dog, trying to get water off his back," said Louis.

"Louis, my hair is full of wool."

"This jumper does shed a bit, actually. I don't know why I'm wearing it. My mother gave it to me."

"Mothers," said Harry.

They lounged around in Harry's bed for another hour or so, watching the Madonna retrospective, before Louis decided he'd had enough. " I think I've seen enough Madonna to last me a lifetime. I'm going to get some food," he announced, pushing back the covers. "Ahhh! Cold feet!"

"Go put some socks on, you dill," said Harry, snuggling down into his bed again.

"You're not going back to sleep?"

"When do we need to be ready by?"

"A quarter to one. It's nearly twelve now."

Harry sighed. "Just ten minutes."

"No minutes. No time! We have to eat and get ready."

"Have you done the dishes from yesterday yet? It's your turn."

Louis groaned. "No. God, I don't want to add to them. Maybe we can have freezer meals for lunch."

"Just this once," said Harry, "I'll let you get away with it."

"I could do the dishes now, but then we'd hardly have time to eat. I hate people rushing me through my food."

Harry threw the covers back. "You go do the dishes, I'll sort the food out, deal?"

"Deal," said Louis, leaving in the direction of his bedroom, presumably to get some shoes or socks.

As he got dressed, Harry realised he felt better. He growled to himself a little. He didn't want to feel better. He wanted to wallow in his melancholy for a while. Damn that cheeky Louis Tomlinson for cheering him up. He looked in the mirror. His hair still had bits of wool hanging off it. He brushed it vigorously and managed to get it all out. It didn't flatten out his curls; if anything, brushing it just made it more curly.

"'Ello there, curly," Louis greeted him in the kitchen.

"Shut up. Your stupid jumper. You're not wearing it to the shoot, are you?"

"No. Why, you worried I'm going to stick your head under it again?"

"I wouldn't put it past you," said Harry, fetching two frozen dinners out of the freezer. He put them both in the microwave--probably not a good idea, but what the hell--and waited, stopping and shifting them about occasionally, as Louis finished the last of the washing up. Louis then got a towel and began to dry the stack of dishes, while Harry took one dinner out of the microwave and let the other have a couple of minutes by itself. Then he swapped them around. 

"Smells good. What is it?" asked Louis.

"Two lasagnes."

"Yum." Louis dried the dishes a little faster. He flung cutlery almost heedlessly into the cultery drawer.

"Louis, that cutlery drawer had better not be in a mess when I go in there," said Harry, stepping up to get knives and forks. Of course it was a mess. Louis dumped some more in there. "Lou! That's not how you put the cutlery away!"

"I don't see why all the spoons should hang out with each other all the time. Maybe they'd like some canoodling with the forks for once."

"Your mind is a very strange place." Harry managed to find two knives and two forks and Louis slammed the cutlery drawer shut. 

"Out of sight, out of mind," said Louis. "Come on, let's sit down and eat."

Shaking his head, Harry took a serve of lasagne and sat at the table, Louis following him. They ate and just as they'd finished, the doorbell rang. "It's us!" he heard Liam call.

Louis lept up from the table and let them all in, before going back to the kitchen and sitting back down with his food. Niall walked in, sniffing the air. "Mmm. Smells good in here."

"You've eaten already, Niall," said Liam.

"I was just commenting."

"There's always room for something more with you, isn't there?"

"There's always room for lasagne," said Niall, hovering around Harry.

"No, Niall. Leave them be. Come and play some video games with me."

"I want to play video games," said Zayn. 

"You two play video games, then."

"How much longer, Liam?" asked Louis. 

"Fifteen minutes or so."

"Good. I hate rushing my food."

"You have to leave time to brush your teeth," Harry reminded him. "No time to floss, though."

"Why did you serve me up lasagne? You know the cheese gets stuck in my teeth. There'll be enough time for a really quick flossing, I imagine."

Fifteen minutes later, Louis was still flossing his teeth. 

"Louis!" called Liam. "Our car's here!"

"Righto! I'll just swap out of this jumper."

"Louis, we don't have time!"

"Trust me, you want him to swap out of that jumper," said Harry. "It sheds everywhere. He stuck my head under it this morning; I was brushing my hair for ages trying to get all the wool out."

"That explains the extra-curliness," said Niall, tentatively reaching out a hand to touch Harry's hair. 

"Niall, don't touch my hair. It's had enough manhandling for one day."

Niall took his hand away.

"Louis!" called Liam again. "Harry, go and see what he's doing."

Harry was just about to, when Louis came down the stairs. "Coming! I had to change my t-shirt, too. It had wool all over it."

"Are we all ready?" asked Liam, sounding a little frazzled. 

A chorus of 'yes!' greeted him and they all trooped out the door, Harry last, making sure it was locked.

***  
Saturday came around quicker than Harry expected. He was supposed to go on a blind date. He'd asked Louis her name: Kathleen. He didn't think he'd met her before. What should he wear? It was really bothering him.

"Louis, what should I wear?" Harry stood in the doorway of Louis' bedroom, where Louis, who had just stepped out of the shower, wore nothing but his underwear. They were used to seeing each other in even less, but Harry couldn't help but notice how cute Louis' arse looked in the tight boxer-briefs. That was nothing new to him. He thought everything about Louis was cute. Why not his arse?

Louis turned around from his t-shirt drawer. "Nothing too fancy. We're just going to a nice pizzeria. It's pretty informal whilst still being outrageously expensive."

"Why are we going somewhere that's outrageously expensive?"

"The pizzas are to die for." Louis gave up on his t-shirt drawer and walked over to his wardrobe, which he opened. Harry admired him every step of the way. He liked to watch Louis, no matter what he was doing. He was a skinny boy because he didn't work out, but Harry liked his slimness. He wouldn't have Louis any other way. Or rather, he would, he'd have him any way, but he was happy with what he had. 

Louis selected a collared shirt, so Harry thought he should wear one, too. "What trousers are you wearing?" he asked.

Louis opened the other door of his wardrobe. "Um, I think... these," he said, pulling out a pair of white trousers. They'd look stunning with the dark blue shirt he'd also chosen.

"That'll look good. Okay. I think I know what to wear, now." Harry peeled himself off the doorframe and went back to his room. A pair of nice trousers and a button-down shirt. That reduced the possibilities to something more manageable. He had way too many clothes. 

Soon, Harry was dressed and went out into the main room to wait. Louis came in soon afterwards. 

"How come Eleanor's in town?" Harry asked.

"She's visiting some friends. Including Kathleen. I'm sure you'll like her. I only just met her myself, but she's a great girl. Not at all fan-crazy." Louis seemed enthusiastic, so Harry tried to feel the same. 

They left to pick up Eleanor and Kathleen, Louis doing the driving. Harry might have his license, Louis once said, but that didn't mean he could drive. Harry thought there was nothing wrong with his driving. Sure, he'd had one minor front-to-rear end prang but that was all a part of learning. He was better now.

Louis still wouldn't let him drive, though.

Soon enough, Louis stopped the car outside a block of flats. "Eleanor happens to be staying with Kathleen, so it all works out well," Louis winked. "Come on, Harry. Let's go meet."

Harry ruffled his hands through his hair and followed. He'd ruffled his hands through his hair three more times by the time they got up to the apartment. 

Louis knocked on the door. "It's me and Harry!" he called. 

Eleanor opened the door. "Hi, love," she said to Louis, before hugging him and giving him a kiss. Harry felt jealous. He wished he had that kind of relationship with someone. It must be so nice, to just be able to fall into each other's arms, to kiss. 

"Hi, Harry," Eleanor said, finally dragging her attention from Louis. 

"Hi, Eleanor."

"Come and meet my friend," she said, taking Harry's arm. He shouldn't be jealous. He and Eleanor got on well. 

Inside the main room of the flat, a girl stood up from the couch. She was pretty, was the first thing Harry noticed. A petite girl, with blond hair, wearing a gorgeous dress. 

"Hi, I'm Kathleen," she said to Harry.

"I'm Harry." He always felt a bit ridiculous introducing himself. 

"Pleased to meet you, Harry," she said.

"Likewise," he said. Louis was right. She met his eyes directly, spoke confidently; there was nothing fan-girlish about her. He could tell she was nice, already.

"You're both ready? Let's get going, then," said Louis, and the girls grabbed their handbags and followed the boys out the door. Down the lift, Harry tried to think of something to say to Kathleen, but he couldn't. He was too nervous. What if it didn't work out between them? What if it did? How would his life change? He kind of liked his life the way it was now, even though he had a keen sense of missing out on romance. At least now he had Louis. Although it wouldn't always be that way, he reminded himself. One day Louis was going to move in with Eleanor, and where would that leave him? He had to find someone. Definitely a girl; he couldn't contemplate being with a guy other than Louis. Maybe it could be this girl. He looked over at her and she smiled. He smiled back. Maybe it could work.

At the pizzeria, Louis ordered for the lot of them. "Trust me, this will be the best pizza you've ever tasted," Louis assured them. 

"It has goats' cheese on it," said Harry.

"What's wrong with goats' cheese? I bet you've never even tasted it."

"I don't know if I want to."

"Harry, it's nice, really," said Kathleen. "You can milk goats. They sell goats' milk at my local supermarket. It's a slightly stronger taste than cows' milk."

"Okay, I'll trust you," said Harry, not wanting to disagree with her. Still, goats' cheese?

They chatted, the four of them, until the pizza arrived. Louis was the first person to help himself to a slice. "Come on, everybody. Tuck in."

Obediently, the rest of them grabbed a piece. Harry looked at his with suspicion. It looked all right. He took a tentative bite, chewed, and swallowed. Yes, it tasted pretty good, too.

"Are you through with your experiment yet, professor?" Louis enquired of him.

"Mmm. It's actually pretty good."

"What did I tell you?"

"That it was going to be the best pizza I've ever tasted."

"Keep eating. It will become apparent."

Harry kept eating. He had to grudgingly admit that Louis was right. The pizza crust was perfect, the tomato base delicious, the toppings complementing the rest of the pizza superbly.

"Wow, this is really good," said Kathleen to Harry, and Harry nodded, his mouth full. 

When he finally swallowed he said to her, "It seems Louis was right."

"When am I ever not right, Harry? Stick with me, meet all the right people, eat at all the right places."

"I'm glad there's no paparazzi here," said Kathleen. "I imagined they followed you about all the time."

"They try to," admitted Harry. "But occasionally we get the jump on them. How much money can your newspaper or magazine spend on following two guys around, anyway?"

"Their budgets sometimes seem unlimited," said Eleanor. "At least where Louis and I are concerned."

"They make a lot of use of freelance photographers, who have nothing better to do but hide in the bushes waiting for you to pass," said Louis. "I kind of feel sorry for them, actually. It can't be much of a life."

"You're too kind," said Eleanor.

"I try to be understanding," said Louis, and earned a kiss. Harry glanced at Kathleen. He noticed she was looking at him, and quickly looked back to his pizza. Louis and Eleanor together were so cute, it was painful.

By the end of the night, he knew more about Kathleen; she had two brothers, her parents were still together, she studied anthropology. The four of them had quite a bit of a discussion about anthropology, what it meant in today's world, what made anthropologists still relevant. Kathleen defended her chosen profession with a passion. She was nice, thought Harry. And passionate. But he didn't feel a spark. Surely you should feel a spark? He'd felt a spark when he met Louis, in the bathroom at the X-Factor bootcamp. A spark must be essential. 

Maybe he was rushing things in his mind too much. He'd met a bundle of beautiful girls since being in the band; maybe he expected too much too soon from a relationship. He tried to think back when Louis and Eleanor first met. No, Louis and Eleanor had been all hearts-eyes right from the moment he introduced them. Not a good example. Maybe he should talk to Liam about how it was with Danielle.

They left the pizerria and decided to have a quiet night, head back to Kathleen's flat. Once there, Kathleen put on the stereo and offered them drinks. 

"Whiskey?" said Louis.

"No problem. Straight, or with coke?"

"Straight, thanks." 

Eleanor ordered whiskey with coke.

"I'm a bit tired, actually," said Harry. "Got a bit of a headache. Nothing for me, thanks."

"A glass of water?"

"Yeah, cheers."

Kathleen left the room.

"How can you be tired, Harry?" said Louis. "You lazed around in bed all morning."

"But you wouldn't let me sleep," Harry reminded him.

Louis leaned forward--he was on the couch with Eleanor, and Harry was in an armchair--and whispered loudly to Harry, "So, what do you think of Kathleen?"

"Shh. She'll hear."

"You're not very subtle, Lou," said Eleanor.

"If you'd heard this boy the other day, crying out for romance, you wouldn't be subtle either. I have a serious commitment to making sure Harry's happy. So, answer the question, Harry."

Harry leaned forward and whispered, "She's nice."

"Yes! I knew you two would hit it off."

"She's a lot smarter than me, though."

"Don't put yourself down, Haz. You're smart enough."

Kathleen came back into the room just then with two glasses of whiskey over ice. "I'll just get your water, Harry," she said. She came back in again, and handed Harry a glass of water, before going and sitting in the armchair opposite. 

Harry decided to make an effort. "This is a nice flat," he said. "I like the way you've decorated it." Kathleen had tapestries. Tapestries were nice.

"Thank you, Harry. I've always had a fondness for tapestries."

"Me too."

"Harry's room, however, does not show as much good taste," said Louis. "He has posters of bands up on his walls."

"At least my room isn't littered with clothes, shoes, empty snack packets-"

"We'll stop there."

"Louis, don't tell me I have to go tidy up your bedroom again," said Eleanor.

"You don't have to."

"In other words, yes, Eleanor, I need you to tidy up my bedroom. Honestly Louis, you are such a slob. I don't know why I put up with you."

"You know why you put up with me," sniggered Louis, and leaned in for a kiss. Harry rolled his eyes and looked at Kathleen. She rolled her eyes back at him, and they grinned.

They chatted, all very grown up, for another hour or so, and then Harry's headache really began to make its presence felt.

"Lou, can we get going? I've seriously got a bad headache."

"I was going to stay over," said Louis.

"Oh." Of course Louis would. He didn't get enough time with Eleanor, being that she lived in Manchester, so it made sense that he would snatch every opportunity to be with her. "So now you're going to let me drive."

"If you have an accident, you'll only harm yourself, not me as well."

"That accident I had was nothing, and you know it."

"It cost five hundred pounds to repair. That's not nothing."

"Honestly, it was a minor front-end to rear-end collision," Harry told Kathleen. "I've matured since then."

"No, I seriously worry about you on the roads, mate," said Louis. "You should take a taxi."

"Louis-"

"One of us will have to, anyway. Go on, call a cab."

Harry pulled out his *mobile phone and selected the cab company. "Yeah, hi. One taxi please, from--hang on--what's the address, Kathleen?" She supplied it, and he told the cab company, then gave his and Louis' address. He pressed 'end' and noticed he had messages waiting for him. What was new? He always had messages waiting for him. It could get a little exhausting, sometimes. 

"I'd better go down to wait," he said, standing up. "Nice to meet you, Kathleen."

They all stood up to say goodbye to Harry. Eleanor gave him a kiss on the cheek, Louis--ridiculous boy--also gave him a kiss on the cheek. Finally, there was Kathleen. Harry gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you for tonight, I enjoyed meeting you."

"Same here. Maybe we could catch up again?"

"What's your phone number?" He dragged out his mobile phone and typed it in. "Okay, see you guys."

"Bye, Harry," they chorused.

Harry made his way down to the street. Soon after, the cab drove up, and he was homeward bound. He went through his messages whilst in the cab. Many of them could be ignored. A few he had to call back at some point. He sat back and put his phone away. He couldn't be bothered right now.

The cab dropped him off outside the gates, and Harry walked up to the apartment. Everything was quiet. He went upstairs to his bedroom, undressed, and fell into bed. His headache was getting worse. He really ought to get something for it, but couldn't be bothered. Finally, though, he got up again. In his boxer-briefs, he went into his bathroom. He had some codeine tablets somewhere. They should knock the headache out and help him get a decent sleep besides. 

***

In the morning he heard Louis come home, whistling up the stairs. Somebody had got some last night. He wondered how long it was until Eleanor went back to Manchester and he had Louis to himself again. Surely it couldn't be more than a couple of days; she had classes to attend, after all. 

He dragged himself out of bed. His headache had receeded. He looked at the time. Ten o'clock in the morning. Well, at least he'd got a decent sleep. He got dressed and went to find Louis, but he heard the water running and realised Louis was showering, so he went down to the kitchen to have breakfast. He looked in the pantry but nothing inspired him. As for the fridge; well, he really didn't feel like cooking. He went out into the main room and put the TV on automatically. Did they have any responsibilities today? Louis would know. He knew they had a tour coming up, but that was a little way in the distance yet. They were still involved with photo shoots and interviews at the moment.

A little while later Louis came into the room. "Hi, Hazza."

"Hi, Louis. Did you have a nice time?"

"Of course." Louis winked and Harry smiled back. He couldn't be mad at Louis. Occasionally he got annoyed with Louis' slobbiness, but never for long. At the moment, the living room looked perfectly picked up, so he couldn't complain. "Eleanor's coming over this evening," he added. 

"To clean your room?"

"To clean my room... and other things."

"Louis, I can't believe you make your girlfriend pick up after you."

"She likes it. Don't ask me why. Have you had breakfast? I had eggs on toast."

"No, I wasn't hungry."

"Still got a headache?"

"No, not really. I took some codeine for it last night; it seems to have helped."

Louis sat down next to him on the couch. "So, what do you think about Kathleen?"

"I told you, she's nice."

"Are you going to see her again? She was impressed with you."

"I've got her phone number," said Harry.

"Make another date. Go on."

Harry pulled out his phone. More messages, he noted. What a surprise. He pressed dial on Kathleen's phone number. 

"Hello?" she said.

"Hi, it's Harry here."

"Harry, how are you? Is your headache better?"

"Much better, thanks. I guess I just needed a good night's sleep. So, how about you? Are you interested in going somewhere? Maybe for icecream?"

"I'd love it."

"Hang on a sec." Harry turned to Louis. "Do we have any commitments today?"

"A photo shoot this afternoon."

"Another one? Surely they got enough photos last time."

"This time we're going out of the studio. I don't know where, exactly, somewhere around London."

"Great." He put the phone back to his ear. "Kathleen? Apparently we've got a photo shoot today; how about tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow's fine by me. I know a perfect ice cream place. How about you come by my flat around two, and we'll go from there?"

"Sounds good," said Harry. "Okay, I'll see you, tomorrow at two."

"Goodbye until then."

"Goodbye." Harry ended the call and put his phone back in his pocket. Louis was looking at him with amused interest. "We're going out tomorrow. I assume we've got nothing on tomorrow afternoon?"

"You're lucky, we don't. So, you're going out at two? Does that mean I can bring Eleanor over?"

"You can always bring Eleanor over, you know that."

"Still, it's nice to know we can get some private time."

"I don't mean to stand in your way."

"Harry, you don't. Don't ever think that." Louis looked at him, seriously. "It's just, it's nice to get the occasional moment truly together."

"I understand. I'm definitely going out with Kathleen at 2pm tomorrow, so you'll be right from about a quarter to two until five at least. I promise."

"Thanks, Harry," said Louis. 

"I'm sure she'll deserve it, after picking up after you tonight."

"Do we bother you?" asked Louis.

Louis' bedroom was on the same floor, but at the oppposite end. Harry had heard him and Eleanor, sometimes. He didn't know what to say. "No, you don't bother me," he said, eventually.

"What's the pause for? We do bother you, don't we? I'll make an effort to keep it down."

"Not that I ever do," admitted Harry.

"Not that you ever do, at all. But you've gotten more quiet lately. Haven't been around the ladies as much. I hope Kathleen works out for you."

"I hope so, too," said Harry fervently. 

***

The date with Kathleen at the ice cream parlour went really well. She was really a nice girl. Harry knew he could bed her, easily. But he decided to take his time. He wanted a proper romance, not a casual fuck. He kissed her, on the lips this time, when he left. He still didn't feel a spark, but they arranged to go out again in a couple of days time.

He made sure it was after five when he got back to the apartment. Eleanor and Louis sat in the main room, watching TV. Eleanor was in Louis' pyjamas. Louis was also wearing pyjamas. Harry guessed they'd had a hot sex session and cleaned up afterwards. 

"Is his room presentable?" he asked Eleanor.

"Absolutely. I can work miracles in a very short space of time."

"You'd need to be a miracle worker to tackle Louis' bedroom," agreed Harry. "Can I go look?"

"Feel free," said Louis, smug in the knowledge that Harry wouldn't find a thing out of place.

Harry went up to Louis' room. He walked in. The floor was bare; you could actually see the carpet. It looked like it had been vacuumed, too. The scent of sex hung strongly in the air. So Harry had been right. They'd taken the afternoon to get a bit of romance. He felt jealous, again. He'd felt possessive towards Louis, ever since Louis had plucked him out of the crowd and chosen to devote his attention to him. You couldn't give that away overnight, he argued with himself. It would come naturally. Maybe things would work out between him and Kathleen, and then there'd be no contest. Then Eleanor and Louis could do what they liked, without a jealous Harry breathing down their necks.

He went back out to the main room. "You vaccuumed?" he said to Eleanor.

"I had to. There was dust everywhere."

"I've got a clean room, ha ha," said Louis. "You'll have to deal with your own room, Harry."

"My room is never as messy as yours."

"Maybe you could persuade Kathleen to come over and fix stuff up for you?"

She wouldn't have been the first girl to clean out Harry's room. But he didn't want that for Kathleen. She deserved respect. 

"No, I'll do it myself. Right now, as a matter of fact." There was nothing that could keep his mind off Eleanor and Louis as cleaning his bedroom and bathroom. 

Two hours later, he emerged, to find Eleanor and Louis having dinner. 

"We've cooked some for you. I went to fetch you, but you were scrubbing the shower so seriously, I didn't dare interrupt you," said Louis.

"Thanks, Louis." Harry went into the kitchen, got a plate out, and and filled it with spaghetti that Louis had apparently cooked. He sat down at the kitchen table. It wasn't bad, for a Louis effort. Afterwards, he pottered around the kitchen, putting the leftovers away, doing the dishes. He came back out to the main room to discover Louis and Eleanor kissing passionately.

"Oh, sorry," he said.

"Don't be stupid, Harry." said Louis. "Sit down. Watch TV with us."

"What are you watching?"

"A nature documentary on dolphins. It's cute. You'll like it."

Harry watched the documentary. It was cute. It told of how intelligent dolphins were, how they could call to each other, and how they differentiated each other. It made him feel happy inside. 

"I like dolphins," he said to Lous.

"I do, too. They're spectacular creatures. I'd love to swim with the dolphins one day. I know you can do it in Australia."

"So you still have stuff left on your to-do list?"

"Of course. Don't you, Harry?"

"I haven't thought about it. I suppose there's some things I still want to do."

"Like go to Istanbul?"

So Louis remembered. "Yes, like going to Istanbul. I reckon that'd be sick."

"It's somewhere different. I'd like to go, too."

"How about going to your bedroom, now that the documentary has finished?" said Eleanor.

"Sure, we can do that. Hazza, have a nice night." Louis ruffled his fringe, and Harry tried not to feel jealous. He had his own blossoming romance. It wasn't fair that he mucked up Louis'. 

After a while, he went to get a blanket from his room. He grabbed the pink one, the one that Louis had matching in blue. He could hear noises coming from Louis' room, but ignored them. He sat back down in front of the TV. He flippped though the music channels, found nothing to watch, started to watch a crime show. It was horrible. It was about a serial killer, but Harry stuck with it until the end. He looked at the time. Ten o'clock. He supposed he should go to bed now. He switched off the TV and made his way upstairs. Silence from Louis' room. Harry was grateful. He got into his own bed, and tossed and turned for a bit of the night, before finally falling asleep.

***

Eleanor went back to university at Manchester the next day. Harry drove out with Louis to the plane to see her off. Afterwards, Louis said, "We should grab some lunch."

"I'm not hungry," said Harry.

"You're a growing boy. Of course you're hungry."

"Just a sandwich, then."

"I know a sandwich place not far from here. We'll go there." Louis drove, with a confidence Harry liked to pretend he felt when driving. Louis was all casual, one arm on the down-turned window frame, the other on the steering wheel.

"You've never had an accident?" said Harry.

"No. I was a champion driver from day one. Have no fears with me, mate."

Louis was a good driver. He didn't get too close to the cars in front, he stayed in the far lane in case someone wanted to pass, he kept his eye out for dickhead drivers who liked to cut them off.

"Sorry, Haz, if it's not to your standard, but I don't want a speeding ticket."

"Why are you always going on about my driving? It was one incident. One incident."

"I worry about you, that's all."

"Don't be worried anymore. I've learned my lesson not to travel too close to the car in front."

"Glad to hear it." Louis turned off the highway into a row of shops. "There's a nice café here, we can get a good sandwich."

Harry followed him into the café. They ordered and soon enough were served up with massive sandwiches.

"I don't think I can get my mouth around this," said Harry, as they sat down together.

"You've got a nice wide mouth. You should fit the sandwich perfectly."

"A nice wide mouth? Are you saying I have a big mouth?"

"No, just a nice wide one."

Harry bit into his sandwich. He was just able to fit his mouth around it. Louis took a half-bit from his. He obviously wasn't able to get it all in his mouth.

"You can't fit it into your mouth, can you?" said Harry.

"No, I admit this one's too chunky."

"I fitted it all into my mouth."

"So I see."

"So you're saying I have a big mouth."

"Harry, you have a beautiful mouth," said Louis sincerely.

Harry tried not to blush. Maybe he shouldn't have pushed it.

"You've got a cupid's bow," added Louis. "I wish I had your mouth."

"You've got to be kidding. I wish I had yours." Louis was so free with the smiles, it transformed him.

"Haz, I've got ordinary lips. There's no competition."

"Okay, can we stop talking about it? I'm trying to eat."

"Sorry, mate," said Louis. "I'll ignore you until you finish your sandwich." He did, too, staring out towards the back of the café, whilst Harry finished his sandwich. It gave Harry ample time to observe Louis. Louis didn't take big bites. Harry knew he liked to savour things. 

"I've finished, you can look at me now."

Louis wiped a bit of mayonnaise from the corner of his mouth. "Good. You were depriving me of one of my pleasures in life."

"What, looking at me?"

"Harry Styles, you're something to look at."

Harry ducked his head. 

"I love your curls!" said Louis.

"I know you love my curls. You can't keep your hands off them."

"If you were me, and I were you, you wouldn't be able to blame me." Louis stood up. "Time to go?"

"Yeah."

Louis led them back to the car. "What do you want to do tonight?" he asked Harry, reversing confidently out of the car parking space. 

"Get drunk," said Harry.

"We can do that. What do you want? Whiskey, brandy, vodka-"

"Whiskey."

"I'll stop at a place on the way home."

Louis went in and ordered, while Harry stayed in the car. Louis came back with a paper bag obviously containing two bottles.

"Two bottles?" said Harry.

"You never know." Louis put them down on the floor of the back seat and they were off again.

When they pulled into the apartment complex, Harry said, "I'm going to have a shower."

"Don't worry, I won't start without you."

Harry had a nice shower, changed, and went back down to the main room. He noticed the two bottles of whiskey on the coffee table, untouched.

"My turn," said Louis, leaving to have his shower. 

"I'm just going to talk to Liam, okay?"

"Okay, mate."

Harry stepped out of their flat and went to Liam's, close by. Liam was by himself, which he was happy about. 

"How do you know when someone's right for you?" he asked Liam.

"I don't know, Harry, you just feel it."

"I've been dating this girl, who I really like, but there hasn't been that spark, you know?"

"I know what you mean," said Liam. "I have that spark with Danielle."

"And Louis has it with Eleanor. So I'm thinking, if there's no spark, she can't be the right girl for me, you know?"

"Not necessarily," said Liam. "Sometimes these things take a while to reveal themselves."

"When did you get that spark with Danielle? Was it when you first met her, or afterwards?"

"It was on our first date. I just knew she was the one for me. Wait it out, Harry. There's plenty of time for a spark to develop."

"Louis and Eleanor got one the first time they met."

"Louis and Eleanor are lucky. I didn't get a spark straight away with Danielle. Like I said, it took our first date for me to realise she was the one."

"I've dated this girl already."

"Harry, since when are you worried about a romance, anyway?"

"I feel like I'm missing out on something," Harry mumbled.

"You're only eighteen. You've got plenty of time. There's plenty of girls in the world."

"It's just that everyone's pairing up. Zayn and Perrie, and even Niall's got a girlfriend."

"Don't feel any pressure, that would be the worst thing you can do," said Liam. "Just let it happen naturally. If it's meant to be, it's meant to be."

They talked for a little while longer, then Harry went back to his flat. Louis was sitting on the couch, in his pyjamas, waiting for him. He looked cute and cuddly in his pyjamas.

"Thank god, I can get stuck into the alcohol now," said Louis, grabbing a bottle and pouring them each a shot. They raised their glasses to each other.

"What are we watching?"

"Bruce Willis. Die Hard 3."

"I want to see the first one again."

"You're out of luck, Hazza. This is all they have on."

Harry settled back into the couch. Louis kept topping up his drink and before he knew it, he was feeling like he was sitting on a cloud. 

"More, Haz?" said Louis, lifting the bottle.

"No. Not yet. Not for a while, anyway. I think I'm drunk."

"You lightweight," teased Louis, before pouring himself another drink.

"I'm only eighteen," said Harrry, remembering Liam's words.

"You're right. I shouldn't be corrupting you. No more for you tonight."

"No, Louis, I want some more, just not right now. Let's keep watching the movie."

Before he knew it, the movie was over, and he picked up the whiskey bottle to pour himself another. Louis grabbed it. "Haz, are you sure? You're looking pretty spaced out. You know I promised your mum I wouldn't lead you into bad ways."

"I'm sure. I've settled down a bit." He got up. "Actually, I need to pee. Pour me another while I'm gone, won't you?"

He could feel Louis' eyes on him and tried to walk in as straight a line as possible. It turned out to be easy. He wasn't that drunk after all. Okay, so he'd forgotten the last half an hour of the movie already, but that didn't count.

He came back, and found Louis had poured him another. He wasn't going to get any hassle. Relieved, he picked up the glass. 

"We should toast something," said Louis.

"What?"

"You're dating a girl. As in, seriously dating a girl. That deserves a toast."

"All right," said Harry. "A toast to me, for being serious for once."

They clinked glasses and Louis chugged his drink back, so Harry did the same. 

"Another," said Harry.

Louis obligingly poured them each another drink. Harry settled back against the couch. He felt like holding onto something so grabbed a cushion.

"So, you and Eleanor," said Harry. "Do you think you'll get married?"

"I don't know. That's an awfully serious thing. I haven't dated her for long enough yet."

"Will you live together before you're married?"

"Probably. That's the way we'll go, I think." Louis drained his glass and abruptly turned around on the couch, laying his head on the cushion in Harry's lap and looking up at him. "Cupid's bow," he smiled, touching Harry's lips.

"Stop being ridiculous."

"I'm always ridiculous."

It felt comfortable, to have Louis on his lap. "Back in the olden days," he said, "you couldn't have sex until you were married. Can you imagine that?"

"Frankly, thank god for the twenty-first century. I wonder why they had that attitude?"

"Sex was taken very seriously back then."

"I take sex very seriously," said Louis.

"I mean, they'd marry, and that would be the only person they would ever have slept with their whole lives. I wish I hadn't had so much sex. I think I killed my romance."

"You can't kill your romance ability because you have a lot of sex."

"No, I really think I've killed it."

"You're drunk, Harry," said Louis. "You've just confirmed it. No more whiskey for you."

"But what if it was true? I've done too much, too young. I've had it all already. The universe is punishing me."

Louis pulled himself up, and Harry felt the loss of his warmth through the cushion. Louis poured out whiskey, but the stream dwindled to nothing. "Oh. Lucky I bought two, then." He opened the second bottle and poured out some more whiskey into his glass. To Harry's disappointment, he didn't return to his former position. He swung around on the couch to face Harry instead, one leg drawn up. "Harry. The universe does not want to punish you. You can't lose your romance because you've had a bit of sex. You're still so young. I remember what it was like being eighteen. I was confused about a lot of things myself. You've got plenty of time."

"Okay," said Harry. He hugged the cushion to him, then flung it to one side, because it had gone cold.

"Have you kissed Kathleen on the lips yet?" asked Louis.

"Once."

"I've kissed you on the lips more times than that," observed Louis.

"I'm trying to move slowly."

"See? You're doing the right thing. The way to a serious romance is to take things slowly." 

Louis looked so very earnest; and he was so close, his shin and foot were touching Harry's thigh. At that moment, Harry wanted him. He tried to mentally shake it off. Every time he got drunk with Louis, he wanted him, and he always beat himself up in the morning for it. His eyes slipped down to Louis' crotch. Unfortunately Louis was wearing his pyjama pants very baggy, so Harry couldn't see anything but cotton material stretched across Louis' thigh. He closed his eyes and sighed. He didn't need this, on top of everything else.

"When did you first have sex with Eleanor?" Why was he asking that?

"I don't know. Certainly we'd been on several dates before we did it."

"Do you think that's the way to go with Kathleen?"

"I'm sure it's the way to go. You're just going through some growing pains right at the moment. Take things easy, give the girl plenty of respect, and you'll have yoursef a proper girlfriend." Louis reached out and put his hand behind Harry's head, holding it. "I love you Harry, and I want what's best for you."

Harry tried not to gulp over the lump suddenly in his throat. Of course, Louis saying 'I love you' meant 'I love you as a friend'. It wasn't like he'd never said it before. He'd said it quite a lot, and Harry felt moved every time he did. It was the whiskey that was enhancing things. It was the whiskey that was putting these thoughts into his head. Thoughts about how beautiful Louis was, how deep were his eyes, how long were his lashes, how sweet was his mouth. His whole face, his whole being, Harry loved. He was almost irrestistable, but Harry wisely resisted.

Louis got up. "Whiskey's going through me. I need to pee."

"You rhymed."

"I did. Maybe I could make a song out of it." Louis headed towards the stairs.

"Come back?"

"Of course I'll come back." 

He did, soon afterwards. Harry turned his head and felt no shame in watching him walk back to the couch. He wondered if he had any underwear on beneath those pyjamas; there was certainly a hint of swing in his crotch area. "Are you wearing underwear?" Harry asked, and then mentally cringed. Damn the alcohol.

"Why do you ask?"

"Ignore me," mumbled Harry. "I'm drunk."

"You're so cute when you're drunk. Although I have a feeling you're going to have a terrible headache in the morning. I'm not exactly fulfilling my promise to your mother." He slapped himself on the shoulder. "Bad Louis."

"I like bad Louis."

"Bad Louis wants another drink, but good Louis says it's not wise."

"I'll pour you one," said Harry, tipping whiskey into Louis' glass on the coffee table.

"Oh, now I'll have to drink it, because otherwise it will go to waste. Bad Louis wins." Louis picked up the glass Harry had poured for him and drank from it.

"What else does bad Louis do?" asked Harry.

"Bad Louis does this!" Abruptly, he turned on Harry, pushing him down on the couch, fingers tickling under Harry's shirt. 

"No, not tickling."

"Ha ha. Bad Louis knows just where to tickle you." His fingers roamed into Harry's armpits. Harry squirmed, unable to keep from laughing. Louis was draped across him, tickling him to death. Then he felt his nipples being squeezed, and his cock jumped. 

"Louis!"

"Sorry, but you asked." Then Louis planted a big, sloppy kiss on Harry's lips, before seating himself upright, looking pleased with himself.

"Bad Louis is very bad," said Harry, getting upright, too.

"Ah, you love it." Louis turned back to the rest of his drink.

Louis was right; Harry did love it. He could still feel Louis' fingers on his skin, his nipples; still feel the kiss. Oh, why did he have these feelings for his best friend? He wanted nothing more than for Louis to jump on him again, making him feel good, if only for a few seconds. But Louis seemed much more interested in his whiskey, now.

"I think Louis has had too much to drink," said Harry.

"I'm sure I have. You didn't even have half the last bottle, so I've had a substantial amount. I feel very very drunk."

"You're not going to be sick, are you?"

"Not that drunk. Not stupid drunk. Just silly drunk." He jumped up and turned on the stereo. His iPod was already loaded. He selected a song, then came before Harry. "Let's dance."

"Dance?"

"Eleanor wants me to go with her to this restaurant the next time she's in London. They apparently have a dancefloor. It sounds odd, but it's apparently true. I need to practice."

"So you want me to be the girl," said Harry, getting up.

"Just follow my lead. That's all the girl has to do."

"But I don't want to be the girl."

"You can't be the man. I have to practice, I told you."

"Fine, use me, then."

"There's no one else I'd rather use," said Louis, stepping up to Harry and putting an arm around his waist. "Now, come on, hold onto me."

Harry obliged. They started waltzing together, Harry trying not to trip over his own feet in the unfamiliar role. Louis led well, however, and before he knew it, they were in rythmn together. Harry didn't have a hard-on, fortunately, and so bumping against Louis was no big deal, although if they kept it up for too much longer he might just get a boner. Louis' hair smelled lovely; Louis himself smelled gorgeous. Harry drank in the feelings, glad that the alcohol was quelling his arousal. 

They danced together for some minutes. At first Louis looked over Harry's shoulder, a concentrating look on his face, but after a while, his eyes were on Harry. Harry smiled, and Louis smiled. "This is nice," said Louis.

"Yeah."

"You're a good dancer, Harry."

"Thank you, since I'm in the girl role and all."

"What about my dancing? Is it working for you?"

"I'm sure Eleanor would be pleased."

At the mention of Eleanor, Louis broke away from their embrace. "Thanks, Harry. Now I won't be putting out two left feet."

"You know what I think, Louis?"

"What?"

"It's bedtime for you."

"But Harry, I only just finished my last drink. The buzz is going to take another hour to hit."

"You don't need to be buzzing anymore, you're already buzzing enough. Come on." Harry switched offf the iPod, and grabbed Louis' arm, hauling him up the stairs. "It's late, and I want to be presentable for my date with Kathleen tomorrow."

"You're going out tomorrow?"

"To have dinner, yes."

"That's nice," said Louis. "I'm glad I've persuaded you to keep seeing her."

"I'm glad you introduced us." He wasn't sure about it, but anything to make Louis feel good. He led Louis to his room, whereupon Louis declared he needed to pee again.

"I'll got get you a glass of water," said Harry. He went down to the kitchen to do so, and when he came back, Louis was under the covers, but sitting up, still alert. "Here, drink this. It'll help you avoid a hangover tomorrow."

Louis obediently skolled the glass and Harry went into Louis' bathroom to refill it. "I'm just going to put it on your side table, " he said, putting it down, "so if you need a drink in the night, it'll be there."

"Harry, you're the sweetest. Kiss me goodnight?"

Harry leaned over to peck him on the cheek, but Louis pulled his head around so that he was kissing him on the lips. They broke off, Harry feeling aroused again.

"Lie down," commanded Harry, and Louis obeyed. "You sure you don't feel sick?"

"Relax, Haz. I can drink a bottle of whiskey and be fine afterwards. I've in no way reached my limit."

"You're slurring."

"Don't worry about it. I'll be fine tomorrow."

"I'm going to get a bucket, just in case." Harry left, went to the laundry room, where he picked up a bucket. He went back upstairs and placed it by Louis' bed. "Now, if you feel sick, just turn to your right, and there'll be a bucket there, okay?"

"Hazza, you're the best. Kiss me goodnight."

"I've already given you a good night kiss."

"So give me another one. This one I'll try to remember."

Harry didn't go for his cheek this time; he went straight to Louis' lips; but then hovered, uncertain. Louis lifted his head up and met his lips with Harry's own. He flopped back down and sighed. "I love you, Hazza."

"I love you too, Louis. Now sleep."

"Mmm." Louis curled up under the covers. Harry turned the light out and left the room, closing the door behind him. He himself went to pee, then decided to get into bed. It was midnight, after all. 

***

He woke the next morning to a mild hangover; nothing too serious. Not bad enough to need painkillers. He got up out of bed, put some clothes on, and went out into the hallway. Louis' door was still closed. Hoping he'd been all right, Harry went down to the kitchen. A fry-up was just what his stomach needed. He put bacon, and cracked eggs, into a frying pan, enough for two. He added a tomato, cut in half. When it was just about ready, he went to knock on Louis' door. 

"Louis? Breakfast's ready."

"Thanks, Hazza. I'll be there in a sec."

He sounded all right. Harry served up breakfast and was gratified to see Louis, still in his pyjamas, come down to the kitchen table. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"A little bit drained, but otherwise fine. I didn't need the bucket. I told you I could tolerate that much alcohol."

"I don't know if that's something you should be proud of," said Harry, placing a plate before him.

"Bacon and eggs and tomato? Exactly what I felt like." 

Harry sat down opposite and they both hoed into their breakfast. 

"Mmm. This egg is perfect. Harry, you are the best cook."

"Anyone can fry up some bacon and eggs."

"Excuse me, anyone? Don't you remember all those times I've tried?"

"You're well-meaning," said Harry, "even if you're not the best cook."

They ate their breakfast in relative silence. Louis finished before Harry. He sat back in his chair. "Mmm. That was the perfect breakfast. Just what I needed to line my stomach." 

"Me too," said Harry, finishing up the last of his bacon. He stood up and collected both their plates, before depositing them in the sink. "Seriously, no after-effects from last night?"

"A mild hangover. That glass of water you made me drink helped."

"So you remember that?"

"I remember almost everything."

"Do you remember the movie?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember us dancing together?"

"Yes, I remember all of the important stuff, Harry."

So them dancing together was important to Louis? Harry shook his head. All Louis meant was that he remembered all the details. That in itself was gratifying. He'd hate for Louis to forget anything they did last night. 

"Do you remember our goodnight kiss?" asked Harry, before kicking himself. Why bring that up?

Louis didn't seem bothered, though. "I remember. I tell you, I wasn't that drunk."

"You said you forgot the first one."

"No, I remember it. I must have been being silly at the time, wanting you to kiss me again."

"Why would you want me to kiss you again?"

"Because your lips are so perfect," said Louis, unashamedly. 

"You're a trial, Louis Tomlinson."

"I try to be."

After the breakfast dishes, Harry hung around in the main room, watching television. He was watching an African safari adventure. It must be amazing to get so close to lions, to tigers, to elephants. Those beasts were legends of his childhood; he couldn't imagine meeting them for real. It was one thing he definitely wanted to do. 

"You ready, Harry?" Louis had come down the stairs, and was stuffing things into his pockets. 

"What is it today?"

"More interviews. And your favourite is tomorrow--breakfast TV."

Harry groaned. "Breakfast TV should be outlawed."

"We'll have to get you to bed early tonight."

"But I've got my date."

"Right. Then we shan't get you to bed early. I suppose I'll have to put up with grumpy Harry tomorrow morning."

"I don't get grumpy."

"That's exactly how you get when you haven't had enough sleep. And as a growing boy, you need more sleep than me." Louis reached out to pull him off the couch. "Off we go."

Harry felt the warmth of Louis' hand in his, all too briefly, as once Louis had him off the couch, he dropped the contact. He should be glad. He didn't want to reexamine his thoughts from last night. He certainly hadn't drunk enough to forget. He'd checked Louis out right in front of him, for god's sake. And it wasn't the first time he'd done it, either. 

He and Louis didn't sit next to each other for any of the interviews that day. Harry clung to Niall. He knew Niall was pleased. Niall wasn't a big initiator of personal contact but he loved receiving it as much as the rest of the boys. So Harry ruffled his hair during one interview; put his arm around his shoulder in another. Louis, seated between Zayn and Liam, put each of his arms around their shoulders. They were all hugging and the interviewer didn't fail to notice, but to her credit, she stuck to her questions and didn't comment. Harry released Niall after a while, happy that he could enjoy the touch of a friend. A friend he wasn't attracted to. Niall, meanwhile, was perky throughout the interview, talking almost non-stop. Harry loved it when Niall got on a roll; his accent got more and more pronounced. Louis, on the other hand, was quite subdued; unusual for him.

A quick snack break before another interview.

Louis was over the other side of the suite talking to Paul. Paul said something quietly to Louis that was obviously a 'no', and something else, to which Louis answered, "I had a bit to drink last night. I'm not feeling up to it. Niall's been doing a good job, they don't need all of us to talk."

Paul said something else.

"No, I'm not corrupting Harry. He's fine. Aren't you, Haz?" he said, turning around.

"Yeah, I'm great."

"You're not talking as much as usual, either," said Paul to Harry.

"Sometimes I'm quiet," said Harry, and Paul couldn't refute that. Louis, especially when he got into his dramatic persona, was often dominating interviews, and Harry was just as often content to sit back and let him. He always got a chance to say something, if he wanted to. He could signal Louis and Louis would be quiet. He just hadn't felt like talking much today.

"Zayn, it's time for you to shine," said Louis to Zayn.

"I can't carry an interview," said Zayn, looking scared. He was always happy to be the quiet one in interviews.

"Relax. It's easy. Just answer the questions. Liam and Niall will help you."

"What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing. A bit too much to drink. Not in the mood, for once."

"All right. Anything to help you out, mate."

"Thanks."

The next interviewer entered the suite, and they got back into their positions. Fortunately, everything was over by 5:00pm and Harry could go back home with Louis and get ready for his date with Kathleen. He showered and contemplated what to wear. A nice button-down shirt and trousers, he decided. He looked at his shirt collection, then at his laundry pile. He really needed to get onto the laundry. Maybe tomorrow, after the breakfast TV interview. He selcted one of his remaining shirts and got dressed. Fortunately he had a month's supply of underwear so that wasn't a problem. 

He didn't see Louis on his way out. He must have been in his room. But as he fiddled with the front door lock, he heard Louis call distantly, "You leaving, Hazza?"

"Yeah!" Harry shouted back.

"Drive safely!"

"I will!"

The date with Kathleen went well. Because Harry was driving, he couldn't drink too much, but he indulged himself in a couple of beers, while Kathleen had wine. The dinner was good, the atmosphere pleasant, the conversation flowed; and best of all, the paparazzi stayed away.

"Want to come back to my place for drinks? said Harry.

"We can go back to mine. It's closer."

"Don't worry, you can get a cab from my place."

"I don't really want to waste my money on a cab-"

"Don't be daft. I'll pay for it. I'm loaded."

"Okay, then," smiled Kathleen.

"You have to see my flat. It's legendary."

"I'll bet that's what you tell all the girls."

He sort of did, so he blushed. He hid his face in his wallet, pretending to look for his credit card. They paid for the meal and were free to go.

In the car, Kathleen said, "You know, you're a good driver. I don't know what Louis was talking about."

Harry felt flattered. "It was just a simple accident a week after I got my license. A learning experience. I'm much more alert on the roads, now."

"What were you doing, texting?"

"No, I really wasn't doing anything, except what I now realise was travelling too close to the car in front."

"I'm glad you don't text when you drive. It's terribly irresponsible."

"I agree," said Harry. "I don't even answer my phone when it rings."

"Nor do I. I just let it go to missed calls."

They pulled up at the complex, the security guard let them through, and Harry drove to his parking space. "Come on up," he said, invitingly. He hoped Louis hadn't left any junk lying around. It was never a good impression on a girl when they were immediately confronted with a coffee table full of empty mugs and glasses and snack packets. 

He let her into the flat and his eyes went immediately to the coffee table. There was one mug on it, that was all. "Louis' picked up after himself for once," said Harry. "This is our main room."

"Wow, massive TV."

"Isn't it? I've got one in my room, too."

"And that sound system must seriously annoy your neighbours."

"We don't use it too often. We did get a complaint, once, when we had it going all day. Come and look at our kitchen."

Kathleen followed him to the kitchen entry. "It's huge."

"It's great. Plenty of space to prepare ingredients." He looked into the sink to see what Louis ate for dinner. Nothing, apparently. He must have snacked out in his room, or ordered take-away. Harry flipped open the bin. Takeaway.

"Come on, I'll show you my room." Harry led her to the stairs. 

"Are you sure that's wise?"

"No, really. Come see my room. It's great."

Harry proudly showed her his tidy, well-organised room. The bed was in the middle; a king-size. A TV stood opposite the bed, partially in front of the window. The built-in robes were on the far side of the room. 

"It looks like a luxury hotel room," said Kathleen.

"With its own en-suite, too. Come and look. I promise you, it's clean." 

He showed her the bathroom.

"Wow, it really is clean. It's cleaner than mine." She smiled. "It's sexy, a man that can keep a clean bathroom."

It wasn't the first time a girl had said that to him. At first, he'd been affronted--what, men were expected to be pigs?--but after that he'd been flattered. And he could guarantee Eleanor had never once said that to Louis. 

"I'm just going to see if Louis is still up, okay? I'll be back."

Harry went down the corridor to Louis' room. It was 10:00pm; they had to be up at five. A strip of light showed under the door. He knocked. "Louis?" No reply, so he opened the door. Louis was crashed out, a book beside him, the covers half off. Harry picked up the book, put it face down on the bedside table so Louis wouldn't lose his place, and pulled the covers up. Louis stirred. 

"Shh. Go back to sleep," said Harry.

"Hazza? I love you." 

"I love you, too." Harry kissed him on the forehead and Louis sighed and snuggled down into his blankets. Harry left the room, turning the lights off. 

"Was he awake?" asked Kathleen, as he reentered his bedroom.

"No, he was asleep. Fell asleep reading a book, obviously. Here, what can I get you? Alcohol, or tea, or coffee-?

"I wouldn't mind a shot of whiskey with coke, if you have it. Do you mind if I use the bathroom? I don't like using public toilets."

"Go ahead. As you noted, it's all clean in there."

Harry raced downstairs to prepare drinks. He prepared himself a couple of straight shots of whiskey, and a shot of whiskey in a glass with coke for Kathleen. His mild hangover of the morning was all but forgotten. He took them up to his room, and handed Kathleen's drink to her. 

"Kick off your shoes," he said. "We'll see what's on TV."

Kathleen obligingly kicked off her heels, and followed Harry's suit, sitting next to him on top of the bed, her stockinged feet before her. Harry turned it to the music channels, as usual. Some chart music was playing; he could handle that. He took a sip of his whiskey. What were his intentions, here? They could just as easily have watched this downstairs, in the main room. What was his motive in bringing Kathleen back to his bedroom? Was it sex? He had to admit, he was feeling pretty horny. The horniness seemed as much entwined in his vision of Louis, curling up under the covers, as it did in Kathleen beside him, but horniness was horniness. Harry was quite happy to let his physical side dictate matters. He turned to Kathleen and kissed her. The kiss deepened. Soon, he was feeling her up. Kathleen put a hand on his arm.

"Are you sure we should be doing this yet? It's only been three dates."

"I like you a lot, Kathleen. I don't see the problem." He dived back in for another kiss. It was reciprocated, which gave him heart. Harry shucked off his jacket. Kathleen did the same with hers. They kissed some more, until they were practically lying prone on the bed. Harry knew he was going to go through with this, if only Kathleen let him. He kicked back the covers. "Let's get under." He wriggled out of his pants, tossed his socks on the floor, and got under. Kathleen removed her skirt and her stockings and joined him. Yes. This was really going to happen. 

***

"Harry. Harry?' 

There was a knock on his door. Harry groaned, and looked at the time. Ten past five. 

Louis was abruptly in his room. "Harry, we've got that breakfast interview. Time to get up." Louis took in the scene of two people in the bed, and giggled. "You didn't."

"I did."

"What happened to taking things slowly?"

"Three dates is slow enough." He stirred out of bed. He didn't disturb Kathleen because they weren't entwined or anything. She was sleeping on the opposite side of the bed. He had been sleeping naked, and ridiculously, he noted, he had a morning hard-on. "Whoops," he said, covering himself back up.

Louis giggled some more. "I'll make breakfast, loverboy. Should I make some for Kathleen?"

"You'd better. I'll have to wake her up."

"See you soon." Louis left his room, shutting the door behind him. 

Harry slid over to Kathleen and carefully woke her up, a hand on her shoulder. "Hi, Kathleen. Sorry about the early wake up, but I've got a breakfast interview."

She woke up slowly. "Oh, Harry," she said, and reached up for a kiss. Harry reached down to oblige her. "Last night was amazing."

Last night for Harry hadn't been anything special, but he tried to ignore that. "I'm glad you came over," he said instead. "I've got to get up, now." 

"Okay."

Harry was aware of her eyes on him as he got up. "You don't mind if I have a quick shower?" he said to her.

"Of course not."

Harry went into the shower, naked. He turned on the hot water and waited for it to steam before gettting in. Ah. The hot water felt delicious on his skin. Much more delicious than the sex last night. He took ahold of himself. Better than sex? How could a shower be better than sex? He thought back to last night. He tried to think of him and Kathleen, getting it on. His dominant thought was of Louis, curling up under the covers after Harry had kissed him. Damnit. He wasn't even drunk this time. This time there was no excuse.

He stepped out of the shower and towelled himself dry, a vigorous scrubbing having settled his erection. But now he had to walk back out, in front of Kathleen. He should have brought in some underwear, at least. 

Kathleen was sitting up in bed, sheets held up over her boobs. "Do you mind if I have a shower?"

"No, go right ahead. Ah, you'll have to use my towel, though."

"That's okay," she smiled and, demurely as possible, exited into the bathroom. Harry got dressed, and just as he finished, Kathleen came out of the shower, towel wrapped around her. 

"I'll be downstairs, in the kitchen. Follow me," said Harry, not wanting to feel like he was perving on her.

"Thanks, Harry."

Harry bounced down the stairs. There was Louis in the kitchen, shredding cheese into scrambled eggs.

"Eggs on toast. Is that okay?" said Louis.

"Sounds great."

Louis finished his shredding, and put the grater on the sink. "How's Kathleen?"

"She's fine. She's having a shower."

"Aren't you lucky you cleaned the bathroom the other day?"

"I often clean my bathroom."

"I know. And I don't. I'm a pig," sighed Louis.

"You've got Eleanor to pick up after you, that's why you don't bother."

"I'll admit, that's always uppermost in my mind when I look at my bathroom and think, "Hmm, needs a clean'."

"You're terrible, Louis."

"I know. But Eleanor seems to really get a kick out of cleaning out my rooms. Who am I to deprive her?"

"What happens if she dumps you?" said Harry, and immediately regretted it, at the shocked expression Louis swung towards him. 

"She won't," said Louis. 

No, she probably wouldn't. Harry didn't doubt that Eleanor was in love with Louis. They weren't totally famous when she and Louis had met, but they'd been on their way up, and anyone could tell Louis was a good catch. He just didn't want Louis to be hurt.

"Forget I said that," said Harry.

"I will." The toaster popped up. "Ah, nearly ready."

Kathleen came downstairs at that point, redressed in her clothes, and Louis graciously served up the first two servings of breakfast to Harry and Kathleen. He put more toast on for himself.

"Harry told me you can't cook," said Kathleen to Louis. "This is good."

"Ah, well, scrambled eggs. If you can't cook scrambled eggs, you really are a philistine."

"Your turn to do dishes." said Harry, then added, "honey."

"Thanks, sweetheart, for reminding me."

Kathleeen giggled. She didn't seem to mind their foreplay. And that's all it was, Harry reminded himself. Foreplay. He just didn't know if Louis was into him. All that he knew was that Louis loved to tease, loved to get him on edge. The why of it all escaped him. 

Louis sat down with his toast and eggs as Harry and Kathleen were halfway through theirs. "You don't mind getting up this early?" he asked Kathleen.

"No, Harry explained to me you have a breakfast date."

"It's something we all dread, yet nevertheless go along with, for the sake of our fans."

"I think it's wonderful, all you do for your fans."

"Without our fans, we'd be nothing," said Louis seriously.

"Don't they annoy you sometimes, though?" asked Kathleen.

"Some fans can be annoying, but generally they're decent and respectful."

"Yeah, I admit I don't like the ones that grab at my crotch, but most of them don't do that," said Harry.

"We're proected to a certain extent by our management," added Louis. "They always know where the fans are likely to show up, where's the best entrance to take us into a venue, where's the best chance that we won't get harrassed. We owe a lot to management."

"I wonder if there'll be any fans this morning," said Harry.

"There's bound to be. Even at this ridiculous hour."

Just then there was a knock on the door. "It's me!" Liam called, and Louis scarpered off to let him in.

"Fans really grab your crotch? That's so rude," said Kathleen.

"Some fans have no idea of boundaries. Most do, though, so wer're lucky. We haven't had our clothes ripped off yet. I heard that happened to Courtney Love."

"Courtney Love?"

"Wife of the deceased Kurt Cobain. You know, Hole?"

"I don't know them," admitted Kathleen. 

"They're pretty good. I only got introduced to them recently."

Louis came back with Liam. "Hey Harry. Uh..."

"This is Kathleen," said Harry.

"Hi Kathleen, I'm Liam."

"Pleased to meet you," she said, shaking the hand that Liam proffered to her.

"We're just finishing up breakfast," said Louis, "we won't be long."

Harry stood up. "I'd better call you a cab," he said to Kathleen.

"Tell him or her not to get here for fifteen minutes."

"Okay." Harry pulled out his mobile phone and dialled the taxi company. He gave the operator the details and hung up.

"Fifteen minutes," he said. 

"Good. Gives me time to finish my breakfast."

"You all should hurry, you know," said Liam. "We don't want to be late."

"How are Niall and Zayn doing?"

"You're right, I should check on them. See you in a little while."

Liam left and Louis laughed. "Honestly, he puts himself under so much pressure."

"He's just being responsible," said Harry.

"I know, but he can't relax until all his chickens are lined up in a row."

Harry picked up his plate, and Kathleeen's who he noted had finished. He put them in the sink. "Nearly finished, Louis? You don't want to be responsible for Liam having a heart attack, do you?"

"You're rushing me through my food," said Louis, but he obligingly picked up the pace and soon finished. "If I get indigestion, you know I'll complain about it all day."

"You wouldn't even know what indigestion is."

"That's true, but people talk about it like it's torture. I don't want to go through it."

"I'd better leave," said Kathleen, "and go down to wait for the taxi."

"I'll come down with you," said Harry. He escorted her down to the security gate, heedless of what Liam might say about the time. "Thank you; I had a really good time."

"Me too." She smiled at Harry and leaned up for a kiss, which he automatically returned. "I'll call you in a day or two?"

"Yeah. Don't try today, we've got a busy schedule, but after that..."

The taxi pulled up at the front of the estate. 

"Talk to you soon, then, Harry."

"Yeah, I hope so," he said, not sure if he meant it or not. Making love to a girl ought to be the pinnacle of achievement. Instead, it felt like a new obstacle. He'd have to repeat the performance again, now. Kathleen was sexy, but... but he wasn't in love with her. Give it time, he told himself. Louis and Liam said it could take time. They were just lucky they'd felt a spark. It didn't mean things couldn't work out with Kathleen.

He went back in to the apartment complex. At his and Louis' apartment, everyone had gathered, as usual. 

Liam picked up his phone just as Harry got in. "Guys, our car has arrived. Are you all ready? Harry?"

"All okay, Liam," said Harry, and let the guys out of the door, locking it behind him.

"Did you get enough sleep, Harry?" Louis asked when they were all in the car. 

"I feel okay."

"That's good. I feel okay, too,"

"Good, you won't expect me to carry the interview," said Zayn. 

"You did a good job yesterday, Zayn," said Louis. "I was proud of you."

"Well, thanks, but it was torture."

"Not to worry. I'm back to my cheerful, irritating self."

"I wouldn't have you any other way," said Zayn.

Louis happened to be next to Zayn. He hugged him quickly around the shoulders. "Thank you, Zayn."

"No problem."

"Guys, are we all feeling up to this?" asked Liam.

They all responded with variations of 'yes'. 

"That's good, because you, Louis, and you, Harry, weren't exactly on song yesterday."

"We'd had a bit too much to drink the night before. I guarantee you I'm okay today," said Louis.

"Yeah, me too," said Harry. 

"Nialler?" Liam turned to Niall.

"I'm always on song, you know it," said Niall. 

"Yes, you're the most reliable member of the group."

"I object," said Zayn.

"Okay, Niall and Zayn are the most reliable members of the group."

"Where does that leave us?" said Louis, pointing to himself and Harry.

"Inconsistent," siad Liam. "Honestly, you can do better than you did yesterday."

"I told you, we're fine," said Louis, looking daggers at Liam.

"If you say so."

They rolled up at the TV station, As usual, fans were gathered about, waiting. Lots of fans.

Harry followed the boys up the gauntlet. He signed pictures, took photographs with fans, even signed one girl's boobs. Paul eventually hurried them along. "No more, Harry, we've got to get to the studio."

"Sorry," Harry said to the fans, who cheered at him.

***

Inside the studio, they were led to the room where the interview would take place. 

"You'll be standing offstage, just back there, when we'll call you on," sid the interviewer.

"That's fine," said Harry.

"We've got it," said Liam.

"Okay, you're our first guests on the show this morning, so it won't be too long a wait. Good luck, guys!"

"Thanks, " they all said, and crowded back into the offstage area.

"We're going live in 10, 9, 8..." the countdown continued to zero and the interviewer put on his game face. "Welcome everyone on this lovely morning. It's a little chilly, but the sun's out, so we're in for a good day. Now I've got a surprise for you. We mentioned One Direction would come onto the program. Well, here they are. One Direction, everybody!" The studio audience, crazy to get up so early, cheered, and the band themselves filed onto the stage. Harry found himself seated next to Louis. Well, okay, didn't so much find himself as put himself, pulling at Louis' shirt to get him to sit next to him. 

The usual questions were asked, about the new album, about the process of recording it, about how the sessions had gone.

"They went really well," said Harry. "We all enjoyed it, yeah?"

A chorus of agreement came back at him. 

"But seriously, we were much better prepared this time than last. The last time was our first time in the studio, so it was all new, you know? This time we were more seasoned."

"So you're pros, now," said the interviewer. 

"I wouldn't call us pros, but certainly we're much more able to understand what's needed, what the producer wants from us."

"Great. Now, I have some questions from fans for you." The audience cheered. "These come from our audience. First question from Talia: who's the best kisser in the band?"

"I don't know," said Louis immediately. "I've not exactly kissed any of them."

"You've kissed me," said Harry.

"I kiss Harry all the time," said Louis unashamedly, and Harry could hear all the Larry Stylinson fans cheering. Louis might regret that. "But not French kissing. I don't know. Who's the best kisser, guys?"

"It must be Harry," said Zayn. "He gets the most girls."

"Yeah, I'd go for Harry," said Niall.

"Harry it is, then," siad Louis.

"Next, from Chloe," said the interviewer, "who would be most likely to do a strip tease for a lady?"

"Harry!" everyone chorused.

"Come on, guys, " said Harry.

"You can't deny it, mate," said Niall. "It's definitely you."

"And from Melanie; who's the biggest flirt?"

"Harry!" they all shouted joyfully again.

"Guys, give me a break," said Harry.

"From Jacinta, who's the most serious in the band?"

"Zayn," said Liam, just as Zayn said, "Liam."

"Oh, so we've got a different answer this time," said the interviewer. "You're not serious, Harry?"

"I'm serious," said Harry.

"When?" said Zayn.

"When there's things to be serious about. I'm serious in the studio."

"That he is," nodded Louis. "He conducts himself very seriously in the studio."

"Okay," said the interviewer. "One more question. Who's the most-, no we'll skip that one; is there anything you feel you're missing out on, for example, school, asks Helen?"

"I'd like to have done some more schooling," said Harry.

"I'm glad I didn't have to do more schooling," said Niall. 

"I still want to go to university," said Louis. "Maybe when everything's over and-"

"It's not going to be over," said Niall.

"Well, Niall, it has to be, someday. You can't be a boyband forever."

"We'll just turn into U2 or something."

"We wouldn't be a boyband then, we'd be something more serious."

"Are you saying you don't take this seriously?" said the interviewer.

"No, I take it seriously, I just realise, probably as the eldest, that it won't last forever."

"What's it like being the eldest in the band? Are you expected to be more of the leader?"

"He's expected to be," said Liam.

"What does that mean, Liam?" siad Louis. "I'm the leader. I'm a perfectly good leader."

"Two nights ago," said Liam.

"Why, what happened two nights ago?" asked the interviewer.

Louis dismissed it with a gesture. "Nothing. Oh, I taught Harry how to dance. A waltz."

"How did that go?"

"Brilliantly. Of course, Harry had to be the girl, since I'm the leader, but as he's the prettiest it was only fitting."

"I'm not pretty," said Harry, nudging Louis.

"Harry, you have to believe in yourself. You have the looks of an angel."

"You know that's not what I meant."

"He means because pretty is girlish," said Zayn helpfully.

"No, it's not. A guy can be pretty."

"I believe a guy can be pretty," said Liam. "How about you, Niall?"

"Yeah," Niall nodded. "Especially when it's Harry."

The audience appeared to agree, judging from the cheeering.

"Forget I said anything," said Harry. He whispered to Louis, "You're going to pay, Tomlinson."

"I can't wait," Louis whispered back.

"So your bromance is still going strongly?" said the interviewer.

"What bromance?" said Louis innocently. 

"She means me and you," said Harry, although he knew Louis knew that perfectly well.

"Oh, you mean me and Harry." Louis put an arm around Harry's shoulder and squeezed, before taking it back. "Everything's fine with us. Until, that is, Harry gets his revenge on me for calling him pretty. Then there might be blood in the streets. But we'll make up. We always do."

"So you do fight sometimes?"

"Of course we do. For example, I'm a slob, and Harry's not, so we've had a few arguments about cleaning up and stuff."

"You still live together, is that right?"

Louis nodded. "That's right."

One of the audience members got a bit excited. She'd come down to the front of the seating somehow and now yelled out, "I love you, Harry and Louis! I love you together!" Several cheers from the rest of the audience followed her words, as someone escorted her back to her seat.

"Does it get in the way of your relationship with your girlfriend?" said the interviewer.

"No. She and Harry are very good friends. He's the one that introduced us. As a matter of fact, Harry's dating one of Eleanor's friends right now." A series of groans, and 'no!'s and 'Harry, you're mine' came from the audience. "I guess that wasn't popular."

"Has anyone ever told you, Lou, that you talk too much?" said Harry.

"No, no one's ever said that to me. In fact, I was being called out yesterday for not talking enough."

"Well, talkative Louis is back," said Zayn, the relief evident in his voice.

Harry had to admit a talkative Louis made interviews flow well. But did he have to say that about Harry having a girlfriend? It was still early stages, yet.

The interviewer announced they were out of time, and wrapped things up, to the groans and cheers of the audience. The band made their way back out the way they came in, waving at the audience as they left.

"Five girls have won a competition to meet you boys here at the studio," Paul told them, leading them off to a room.

"Couldn't you have told us this before?" asked Liam.

"You're always better when you're all spontaneous."

"Oh no, not hugging," said Niall.

"Hopefully not groping," said Zayn.

"Seriously, Paul, we should be prepared for these things," argued Liam.

"Don't sweat it, Liam. You'll be fine. Just hug the girls and have a chat. They're coming back from the audience now."

There was plenty of plush seating in the room. Liam tossed himself down with a sigh. Niall bounced next to him. Harry stayed standing; not much point sitting when he'd just have to get back up again. He wandered around, trying to ignore the video camera guys. Why did they have to film every little thing? Louis and Zayn were seated, talking about something. Harry kicked at the couch next to Niall.

"What's up, Harry?" asked Niall.

"Didn't get enough sleep."

"How much?"

"About five hours."

"Amazing you haven't been grumpier," said Liam.

"He's been a little bit grumpy, haven't you, pretty?" said Louis.

"Don't push it, Tomlinson."

Louis only laughed. He knew Harry wouldn't do anything to him.

The door was opened. "All right, ladies, in here," said a man, escorting five girls into the room. The shiny, expectant, often hysterical looks on their faces never ceased to amaze Harry. That they could get so excited over meeting him and the boys.

"Harry!" the first girl squealed, noticing him standing. The other boys began to get up. Harry found himself being sqeezed in a strong embrace. He hugged the girl back. She might be plump, but it wasn't all fat; definitely some muscle in there. She didn't let go, babbling, "I'm Hannah, oh my god, I'm so excited to meet you, I can't believe it, I'm hugging Harry Styles."

"Okay love, let someone else have a turn now, huh?" he said to her.

She finally released him. She wasn't a groper so Harry was okay with her. He received hugs from all four other girls and then the girls started asking all sorts of questions. They were all talking over the top of each other and Harry tried to focus on the question he was being asked by a girl called Alecia. "How did you feel when Louis called you pretty on live TV?"

"I've told him, I'm going to make him pay."

"Seriously?"

"Not really. No, I'm used to him by now."

Niall was being hogged by one girl; he was almost backed into a corner, the poor boy. Harry was glad he'd met the girls first; he was in the relative safety of the middle of the room, with escape available in most directions. They were all nice girls; except you could say the one who'd cornered Niall was a bit pushy. 

They chatted some more, the girls had photos taken with the band, and then it was time for them to leave. They all got hugged again before the girls were escorted out, squealing excitedly at each other.

"I wonder if that's a bonding moment for the girls," said Louis.

"Probably. They're all best friends for life, now."

"Phew." Niall was looking mightily relieved. "I was suffocating for a while there."

"Poor Niall," laughed Louis. "It's because you're so cute. Niall!" he then exclaimed in a high-pitched voice, and gave Niall a big hug, lifting him off his feet.

"Tommo, put me down!"

"That Hannah almost lifted me off my feet," said Zayn. 

"She was a strong girl," agreed Harry.

"All right, boys?" said Paul, as the camera crew began dismantling themselves. "Anyone hungry? We've got a radio station interview lined up, but there's a bit of time before that."

"I'm hungry," said Niall, unsurprisingly.

"Yeah, I skipped breakfast," said Zayn.

"We'll grab something to eat, then, shall we? Come on, lads."

Harry took a deep breath. A small window of downtime in what was going to be a hectic day. Just what he needed right now.

***

It was a long day; 6:00pm by the time they'd finished all their commitments. Harry fell asleep in the car on the drive home. At least, he tried to. The shoulder he was leaning on kept moving.

"Stay still, Liam," he mumured.

"Harry, I'm not your pillow."

"I'm so tired," he groaned. "Louis?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Will you be my pillow?"

"You've forgiven me over the 'pretty' comment?"

"Yes, I won't seek any revenge, I promise."

"Swap around, Liam," ordered Louis, and soon Harry was nuzzling contentedly into Louis' shoulder. He was then able to fall asleep as Louis stayed carefully still. He was dimly aware that they stopped at one point, but Louis didn't move, except to run his fingers through Harry's hair. Enticing aromas then filled the vehicle but it wasn't enough to get him to wake up. Then they stopped again. Was this home? Harry didn't care; he wanted to stay right where he was. 

He heard the others getting out. Fingers were in his hair, again. "Time to wake up, Harry."

"Mmn."

"We're home. We've bought takeout to eat. Come on, love."

Harry reluctantly pulled himself away from Louis' warm shoulder and sat up. They were the only two left in the car; the driver waiting patiently for them. Harry got up, a little wobbly. God, he was tired. Louis followed him out, shouting thank you and goodbye to the driver. Louis; always the one who remembered his manners.

"We're going up to Zayn's," Louis told him.

"I wanna go to bed."

"You need to eat, first. Then I'll let you go. But who knows? Maybe you'll feel like staying awake."

"Never," declared Harry, walking dolefully at Louis' side. 

Louis tried the handle on Zayn's door; it opened, so he walked in, Harry following. The other guys were setting up in Zayn's kitchen, opening containers of chinese take-away. Harry slumped into a seat. 

"Come on, Harry, what do you want?" said Louis. 

"I don't care. Anything."

"Fried rice? Honey chicken?"

"Fine."

"Don't make a mess, Louis," Zayn warned.

"Zayn, it's almost impossible to eat chinese food without making a mess."

"There's noodles on my kitchen table! Who put them there?"

"Er, that was me," said Niall.

"Clean up after yourself, mate."

"Sorry. Paper towel?"

Zayn handed him one, as Louis handed Harry a plate full of tid-bits. 

"Something of everything," said Louis, going back to serve himself. 

Harry picked up a fork and began to eat. The different flavours filled his mouth, as he took a piece from here, a piece from there. It was good. Sometimes you got bad chinese food, but this was good stuff. He ate with a little more enthusiasm. Before he knew it, he'd finished his plate. "Is there seconds?" he said, hopefully.

"Plenty more," said Zayn. "Eat up."

Harry went and fetched some more food. He saw Louis smiling at him, and smiled back. 

"Feeling better, Harry?"

"Yeah, a bit." He took his second helpings back to his chair and ploughed through that, too. He was full, now. Full, and getting sleepy again. He watched his bandmates as they laughed with each other and shared food. He loved these guys. What a wonderful bunch of people. How lucky he was to have them in his life. Sure, there were sometimes hassles, like breakfast TV, and long days, but he wouldn't have it any other way.

"You're being quiet, Harry," said Liam.

"Just thinking how lucky I am."

"Yeah, it was an exhausting day," said Liam, misunderstanding, "but we got through it okay."

"Two days off," said Zayn. "Who's up for going out tomorrow night?"

"Good idea. We haven't done that in a while, all gone out together," said Niall.

"I'm up for it, if I can bring Danielle. We're supposed to have a date," explained Liam.

"Girlfriends welcome. Louis?"

"Count me in."

"Harry?"

"Yeah."

"Bring your new girlfriend, we all want to meet her," said Zayn.

"Oh, okay. I'll see what she's doing." 

Eventually they cleaned up, put the leftovers in Zayn's fridge, and said their goodnights to each other. Harry and Louis set off for their flat.

"Still tired, Harry?"

"Yep. Still going straight to bed."

"Oh well. I might stay up for a bit. I'll watch TV downstairs."

"You can watch it in your room, it won't bother me. I'll be alseep."

"You sure? Because I feel like getting all cosy in bed and turning up some tunes."

"Have it as loud as you want."

"If it bothers you, make sure you come and tell me." Louis got his key out and unlocked their flat, and they went upstairs, Harry following Louis.

"Lou?" he said, in front of his bedroom door.

"Yes?"

"It's just that... I've had the life hugged out of me today by fans, but I want a real hug, from someone who cares."

"Come here," said Louis. Harry walked into his embrace and held on. This was much better. A real hug, from someone who loved him. "I love you, Haz," Louis whispered in his ear.

"I love you, too," said Harry, squeezing harder, trying to transmit all of his love in the hug. Harry wished they could have kept hugging forever but eventually, he let go, and Louis released him.

"Sweet dreams," said Louis, and turned to go to his own room.

Harry went into his, feeling all tingly from the embrace. He heard Louis' TV go on, the volume go up. Still, it wasn't that loud. He could easily sleep through that.

He got undressed and got into bed. God, he was tired. He could feel himself drifting off almost immediately. Enough time to grab onto a pillow, then he was out.

***

He woke up a little after 8:00am. What did he have to do today? Nothing.

He stretched luxuriously and switched the TV on. There was one thing he needed to do today, phone Kathleen, see what she was doing, if she wanted to come out and meet the rest of the boys. It still felt too early in their relationship, but he'd said he would, he couldn't back out now. Too early to phone at the moment, though. 

When he could no longer ignore his hungry stomach, he got up and dressed, grabbing his beanie. Louis' door was still shut. He went downstairs and made himself some cereal, and sat at the table in his huge kitchen. He loved this kitchen. He hated the thought that one day he might have to leave the flat. One day they'd all move out, Zayn, Niall, Liam. Louis. 

He finished his cereal and rinsed the plate, putting it in the sink. What did he want to do today? Just hang around, he decided. A day where he could just hang around, no responsibilities, was what he needed. He picked up the guitar leaning against the wall in the main room and stretched out on the couch with it. He was getting better at playing it. Still nowhere near as good as Niall, but improving. 

After a while, he heard Louis in the kitchen. Well, either Louis, or a burglar. Most likely option, Louis. He continued to play.

Louis brought his bowl of cereal out to the couch, cramming himself into the small space Harry had left. He was still in his pyjamas, plus a beanie, and, for some reason known only to Louis, had his glasses on. 

"Morning, Harry."

"Morning, Louis."

"Sleep well?"

"Mmm. I feel much more cheerful today."

"I feel... introspective," decided Louis, and ate his cereal slowly, staring at the blank TV, listening to Harry. Harry knew he was listening because he hummed along a couple of times, between staggered spoonfuls of cereal. It seemed to take him forever to finish his plate. Harry watched him from time to time, when he was confident of his chording. He really did seem introspective. He hadn't once looked at Harry. Eventually he finished his bowl, and sighed, and got up to take it into the kitchen. He came back and stood there and sighed again. 

"Harry, we need food."

"Off you go, then," said Harry. "You know where the shops are."

"I don't know what we need. I just know we need food."

"Go and see what's missing and what's almost done with and make up a list," Harry suggested.

Louis set off once more in the direction of the kitchen. It seemed to be an awfully long time before he returned, with the kitchen notepad in his hand. He stood there and waited, so Harry stopped playing. Clearly Louis was having an eccentric day. 

"Eggs," said Louis. "Milk. Cereal. Bread. Bananas." He read the entire thing out, and looked at Harry.

"You've done a good job," said Harry. He mentioned a couple more things for Louis to add, like some chicken breast fillets for that night's dinner, and Louis sat down and, laboriously, added the items. 

"That should be fine," said Harry. "Off you go."

"What if some fans see me? I'm fanned out after yesterday."

"You'll deal with it."

"You're awfully confident this morning."

"I've decided I'm having a lazy day," said Harry. "I know we need food, but you're just going to have to get it yourself."

Louis nodded and disappeared. He came back some time later, dressed, still in his beanie and glasses. "I wish these were invisibility glasses," he said.

"It's not much of a disguise," Harry said.

"I thought about making myself a mask out of paper, but that would just make me stand out more." 

"Yes, it would," agreed Harry.

With a heavy sigh, Louis set off. "I'll be a while. I'm taking things slowly today."

"I'd noticed." Harry chuckled to himself when Louis left. It was just as well they didn't have any commitments that day; in no way was Louis up to it. He felt a little mean, making him go shopping when he was clearly out of sorts, but only a little; Harry had done the last three shops. It was about time Louis pulled his weight.

***

Harry had begun to get a little worried, when Louis finally turned up, four hours later, hands full of shopping bags.

"Did you get lost?" he asked.

"I went for a drive. I went down to the Thames and walked along it. No one recognised me. And then I went shopping, and everyone recognised me. I think I have actual bruises from being hugged so much." 

"Idiot. You should have got out of there and ordered home delivery."

"But it was my turn. I did it for you, Harry."

"Aw, poor Louis," said Harry.

"Don't blame me if I've got all the wrong things. The fans decided to help me shop."

"Oh no."

"No, actually it was better. I had sort of a group of bodyguards then and finally managed to make it to the checkout."

"As long as you remembered the chicken, because I'm cooking tonight. Kathleen's coming over." He'd called her in the meantime and she'd happily accepted the offer to meet the boys tonight.

"I've definitely got the chicken. And the tinned tomatoes, like you asked." He trooped off into the kitchen to unpack the goods. Harry remained where he'd spent most of the day, on the couch, reading. Louis called, "I also seem to have alphagetti, which I'm sure wasn't on the list." 

"No. Not on the one you read out to me."

"Do you eat alphagetti, Harry? I don't."

"Put it away. I'll do something with it."

The pantry door creaked open. "My kitchen genie," said Louis. 

"Don't you mean genius?"

"You're a genie, and a genius."

"Thank you, I think."

"If you're a genie, that means I have to rub you."

"I'm not in a lamp," Harry pointed out.

"No. Oh. Okay then."

"You can rub me if you want to. I'd quite like a good massage."

"I'll give you a raincheck," said Louis. "I need to go back to bed for a little while. I feel strange."

"You're acting strange."

"You have no idea how hard it was, putting on a game face for those fans."

"You're very brave."

"Now you're mocking me."

"I'm just trying to cheer you up," said Harry.

"It's not working." The refrigerator slammed shut. 

"Do you need a hug? Or are you too sore from the fans?"

Louis came back into the room. "I definitely need a hug. A hug from a real person, not a phantom."

"I'm a genie. Doesn't that make me a phantom, too?" Harry got up as Louis neared the couch.

"I don't know. I'll have to test it out."

"Here," said Harry, grabbing onto Louis, one arm around his waist, the other around his shoulder. Louis responded, putting his own arms around Harry's back. "Is that better?"

"Yes, you're real," said Louis. "Mmm. I like your hugs best of all."

Better than Eleanor's? Harry wanted to ask, but didn't dare. He'd rather believe he was Louis' favourite hugger, even if it only lasted until he went back to Eleanor.

Louis released him after a while. "Goodnight, good afternoon, whatever. Wake me in a couple of hours if I'm still asleep, okay?"

Harry gave Louis three hours, before he woke him up. He probably should give him even more; he obviously needed it, but he didn't want Louis to be mad at him.

"Louis?" Harry shook his shoulder gently. "Time to wake up."

Louis rolled over and blinked up at him. "Already?"

"Did you sleep well?"

"I must have. I don't remember anything after getting into bed."

"Feeling better?"

"Hmm. Not sure."

"I'm going to cook dinner now. Have a nice hot shower. That'll make you feel better." Harry left him be, and went downstairs to prepare tonight's meal. 

Harry had dinner in the oven when Kathleen arrived. They kissed, just a peck, and Harry brought her into the kitchen. 

"I do love this kitchen," she said. So much space."

"Yeah, it's the best I've ever seen. I really don't want to move away from here, simply because of this kitchen." He checked the timer on the oven. "Dinner won't be long. We're just waiting for Louis." Louis had had an extra-long shower--the water was running for ages--and Harry hoped it had perked him up a bit. Harry put on some vegetables to steam.

Louis came downstairs. He'd washed his hair and was dressed in white jeans and a black button-down. He looked stunning. 

"Feeling better?" asked Harry.

"Yes. Has someone told Paul we're all going out?"

"I presume one of the others did."

"I'll go ask Liam," said Louis, leaving the flat.

"I suppose you have to tell your management every little thing you do, really," said Kathleen.

"We're supposed to. They're the ones who take the fall-out if anything bad happens." Harry opened the oven and grabbed the baking chicken cacciatore out. 

"That smells delicious."

"Chicken cacciatore," said Harry.

"Just like at a restaurant."

"Well, maybe not quite that good."

"If it tastes as good as it smells, I say yes."

Harry served up three plates of the chicken and vegetables and rice. By the time he'd finished, Louis had come back. "Liam says he thought Zayn had told Paul, but he's going to phone him as well. It's always nice to be able to pass these tasks off to others."

"Dinner's served," said Harry, bringing the plates across to the table. "Don't spill anything on yourselves."

"Why do you think I'm wearing black?" said Louis.

"With white jeans."

"Maybe I'll get a napkin."

"Maybe you'd better."

Louis went into the pantry and brought out napkins for them all. 

"You didn't have to for me," said Harry. "I haven't changed yet."

"Take it anyway. You're going to get a big tomato sauce smile by the end of this."

Harry took the napkin and laid it beside his plate. It was probably wise to have it on hand.

"God, this is delicious," said Louis. "My kitchen genie."

"What did you call him?" said Kathleen.

"I meant, kitchen genius."

"He's got this idea that I can perform miracles with a can of alphagetti he accidentally bought," explained Harry. "Remember, you still owe me a rub-down." Kathleen raised her eyebrows at that, so Harry added, "It's a bit of an in-joke, sorry."

"I'll bet you two have lots of little in-jokes."

"We have in-jokes as a band, and me and Harry have our own set that even the band don't understand sometimes," agreed Louis.

"How did you score such an amazing place to live?"

"Our management," said Harry. "They got all of us apartments near each other. It's been great, being only a few doors away from all of your brothers."

"You really think of each other as brothers?"

"Absolutely. I never had a brother and now I can't imagine life without the other four guys."

They finished up dinner and had dessert; a cake that Harry had cooked. Kathleen exclaimed over what an amazing cook he was. 

Louis looked smug as he said, "And I get to live with him."

"Can you cook, Louis?" asked Kathleen.

"No, he can't," said Harry. "He tries, but I don't know what he does, he just can't seem to follow a recipe."

"They always want you to measure exact amounts of things," said Louis. "Who can be bothered?"

"Hence getting served pepper steak that was more pepper than steak," said Harry.

"I thought it looked good, with that nice thick layer of pepper all over it."

"Pity it was inedible."

"Shush, it wasn't. We just turned the steaks upside down and ate them from the bottom," explained Louis to Kathleen. "Problem solved."

Kathleen laughed. 

Kathleen turned out to be the perfect dinner guest. She insisted on doing the washing up. There was quite a bit of it, as it was Louis' turn again and he hadn't gotten onto it.

"Seriously, you don't have to do all of our dishes," said Harry.

"No, no, it's a thank you for the great dinner."

Louis smiled at Harry like the cat that had got the cream. Harry shot him daggers back. They both dried up as Kathleen washed. 

There was a knock on the door. "It's Liam!"

"I'll get it," said Harry, throwing the dishtowel over his shoulder. "Hi Liam, mate," he said, opening the door.

"Paul said that Zayn had already told him, so that's all okay. We're getting a van to drive us and our various girlfriends to the cocktail lounge we'll be heading for first. The driver will wait and then drive us to the nightclub."

"Sounds fine to me," said Harry.

"So just letting you know, the van will be coming by in half an hour to pick us up."

"Thanks, Liam." 

"Make sure you're ready. Make especially sure that Louis is ready."

"Louis is ready already, so no dramas there," said Harry. "I've just got to change."

"Go ahead then, mate. See you soon, okay?"

"Bye, Liam."

Harry went back into the kitchen and, restarting the drying up--Louis was falling behind--told them what Liam had said.

"That sounds good," said Kathleen. "Do all the other guys have girlfriends?"

"I believe so," said Harry. "Hence the van."

"Everyone except me, that is," pouted Louis. "I'm going to be all by myself."

"You can hang with us," Kathleen assured him.

"Do you realise what you just did? You invited a serial pest to hang out with us all night," said Harry.

"I promise I'll be on my best behaviour," said Louis.

"I'm sure you will be," said Kathleen.

"I'm sure you won't," said Harry.

"Oh, ye of little faith, Harry."

The dishes done, Harry left Louis in charge of Kathleen as he went upstairs to shower and change. 

"Don't worry," called Louis, "I'll make sure to tell her all your deepest secrets!"

Idiot, thought Harry affectionately. He quickly showered, then opened his wardrobe and glanced amongst the available items. He'd really need to do the laundry tomorrow; not be so lazy as he was today. He selected a pair of black trousers, and a black t-shirt with a silver logo on. You could never go wrong with black. Black shoes and a black jacket topped off the ensemble. 

He headed back downstairs. 

"Look at who's goth-boy." said Louis, when he saw Harry.

"I think he looks sweet," said Kathleen, getting up to hug Harry. Harry automatically returned her hug. 

"You forgot your eyeliner, Harry."

"Oh, pipe down, Louis." But he couldn't be mad at Louis, he looked too adorable. "Let's set off for Liam's, eh?"

They weren't the only ones with that intention. Everyone, it seemed, had wound up at Liam's. It gave Harry the opportunity to introduce Kathleen, and for everyone to introduce themselves to her. He was glad to get that part over with. 

"She's gorgeous," Zayn whispered to Harry. 

"Thanks."

Just then, Liam's phone rang. Their van was waiting for them. "Come on, guys," said Liam. "Time to go."

They all trooped off down the hallway, voices echoing, probably annoying their neighbours, but what the hell, it was only for a minute.

***

They were at the nightclub. Harry was getting progressively pissed. He hadn't seen much of Louis all night. Despite his words, he didn't hang around him and Kathleen like a third wheel; he'd let them have their space. At first, Harry was grateful; it would be hard to keep his attention on Kathleen when Louis was around. But now he missed him.

"Have you seen Louis?" he asked Liam, seated at the table with Danielle.

"Not for a while, no. Why?"

"Just wondering."

"He might be on the dancefloor."

Harry turned to Kathleen. "Want to dance?"

"Yes, please," she said, like she'd been waiting all night for him to ask. She probably had. He could be a pig of a boyfriend, sometimes.

He led her to the dancefloor and began bouncing around to the DJ's mix. Kathleen was more of a refined dancer; swaying on the spot, wriggling her hips, moving her arms. Harry, however, was pogoing. He looked over the crowd on the dancefloor. Where was Louis? He spotted him, towards the middle, dancing with what looked like three girls at once. Eleanor wouldn't be pleased, but a boy was entitled to have fun.

"There's Louis!" he shouted in Kathleen's ear.

"Where? Oh. We haven't seen much of him tonight."

"I'm going over. Coming?"

"Of course."

Harrry wove his way through the dancing bodies, heedless as to whether Kathleen was following him or not. Louis was doing some sexy dancing with one of the girls. Harry felt he ought to break that up, if only because of Eleanor.

He tapped him on the shoulder and shouted in his ear, "Louis!"

Louis turned. "Hazza! How's it going, mate?" He kissed Harry on the cheek. 

Harry tried not to blush. "It's going good. Me and Kathleen have just come up for a dance."

"Join in. The more the merrier."

Kathleen took up a position opposite him, next to Louis' three girls. He and Louis were left side by side. That could be fun. Louis didn't mind him banging and crashing against him; in fact, they both enjoyed it. For a while there was a competition to see who could make who fall over with the biggest shirtfront, but then they turned back to the girls and proper dancing. They tried to outdo each other, each going in for radical moves. Harry went down on one knee to Kathleen; Louis did the same to one of the girls. Harry embraced Kathleen; Louis embraced the three girls at once. Louis' girls were giggling like mad. Then he and Louis were bouncing off each other again. 

It lasted three songs, before Kathleen said to Harry, "I'm going to the bathroom."

"Sure. I'll be right here."

"This is the great Harry Styles!" Louis shouted to the girls. 

"We know!" they giggled. "Glad he's lost the handbag," said one.

That wasn't fair. Kathleen wasn't a handbag. Still, it was all too much fun. He and Louis danced with the three girls.

"I can't believe we're so lucky!" one shouted in his ear.

"Wait, you're after Louis, not me, right?"

"You're my favouite! My girlfiends like Louis, but you're mine!"

"That was my girlfriend!" she shouted back to her.

"I can make you forget all about her." The girl abruptly grabbed him in a close embrace, dancing close to him. Harry didn't mind. She was gorgeous, after all. He kept an eye out for Kathleen, though, and as soon as he saw her coming back, he broke away.

"Aw, why?" pouted the girl.

"My girlfriend."

"Pish to your girlfriend," said the girl, but she let Harry go.

The DJ put on a fast moving song, its beat relentless. Shutter lights went off on the dancefloor. "Slamdance!" Louis shouted in Harry's ear.

"Oh no."

"Oh yes."

Slamdancing meant taking a running leap at each other and hitting together. Harry backed off a bit, saw Louis doing the same, and ran towards him. Slam! Harry staggered backwards. "I thought you were sore from the fans hugging you!' he shouted in Louis' ear.

"I am. But I want to slamdance!"

So they kept jumping into each other, while the girls around them cheered. Harry looked at Kathleen. She looked a bit lost. 

"Last one!" he told Louis.

"Make it a good one!"

They stood back from each other, and charged. Harry leapt, Louis leapt, and they both slammed together with such force that Harry almost lost his balance. 

"Harry, are you okay?" asked Kathleen in his ear. 

"Fine. Just a bit breathless."

"Do you mind if we head back to the table for a while?"

"Not at all." Harry took a hold of Louis. "We're heading back for a while, okay?"

"Okay. Don't worry, I'm having plenty of fun!"

Harry was glad. When he got back to their table, all of them were sitting around it; Liam, Zayn, Niall, and their respective girlfriends. "Have you been on the dancefloor yet?" he asked Liam, who seemed to have been rooted to the table the whole night.

"Not yet, no."

"Stay away from Louis. He's into slamdancing at the moment."

Danielle stood just then. "Shall we?" she said to Liam, and Liam, never one to refuse his girlfriend, agreed. 

"What have you been up to, Harry?" Niall asked.

"A bit of dancing. A bit of drinking. I think I need another drink, actually."

"Me too. Who else needs a drink?" Niall asked around the table. There were a number of orders, so he got Harry to come with him to the bar to help carry them all back. 

"Met any rabid fans?" asked Harry.

"Just a couple. Actually, they were quite respectful. Just asked for an autograph. One of them had a pen on her. Who takes a pen into a nightclub?"

"Lucky girl," said Harry.

"Smart girl," said Niall, and ordered their drinks. He and Harry took three back each. Fortunately the orders were mostly for beer from the bottle, so they could carry them easily. Kathleen and Danielle had ordered wine. 

"You've got a beer-drinking girlfriend, Niall?"

"Yeah, she's great."

Harry handed the drinks around then sat down at the table. They all chatted for a bit, in the yelling kind of way you had to do it in nightclubs. Eventually, Louis came back to the table and sat down next to Harry in the seat recently vacated by Liam. He was sweating, Harry could see it. He leaned sideways and sniffed. A nice fresh scent of Louis. 

"You need a drink?" asked Zayn. 

"Yeah," said Louis. "Actually, I need a water."

"No water here. You'll have to go to the bar."

Louis hopped up again and disppeared for a while, to return with a glass of dark-coloured liquid.

"I thought you were getting some water?" asked Harry.

"I did. I drank it at the bar. Now it's whiskey-time again."

"How wasted are you?"

"Not that wasted, Harry. Not so wasted that I would kiss you."

"You kissed me out on the dancefloor. You kiss me all the time."

"Those aren't kisses. They're promises."

"You want to french kiss me, Louis?"

Louis looked down at his glass, before turning back to Harry's ear. "Not drunk enough, Harry," he whispered.

But obviously drunk enough to admit to it. Harry didn't know what he thought. Hell, yeah, was one of the thoughts. No way, was another. He was conflicted, and glad Louis was too. He didn't know what he'd do if Louis french-kissed him. That could be the end of their friendship. It would have only one way to go, then; partners, or a separation. Harry wasn't sure he could deal with either scenario. 

Kathleen distracted him then by asking him a question. He answered automatically, trying to disengage his mind from the subject of Louis. The girls were all getting on well, so much so that Zayn had moved positions and was now sitting next to Harry on his other side where Kathleen recently was.

"How's it going, mate?" Zayn asked Harry.

"Prettty good. I'm glad we all come out tonight."

"I am, too. The girls are having a lot of fun, taking to each other. Louis!" Zayn called across Harry. "You good, mate?"

"Never been better. Slamdancing with Harry. You don't want to slamdance, do you?"

"No, I want to keep my figure bruise-free."

"Aw, you're not fun, Zayn."

"Me and Perrie will be up dancing in a bit. You can join us."

"No, I don't want to be the third wheel, thanks anyway."

"You haven't been a third wheel," Harry said to Louis. "You've been doing fine on your own."

"Yes, but I'm on my own. It's just not the same as being with someone."

Harry put his arm around Louis' shoulder. "Mate, I understand. I've played third wheel enough times."

"I'm sorry if I ever gave you the impression you weren't important to me."

"You never did," Harry assured him. "But you're entitled to go dancing with your girlfriend once in a while."

"As are you," said Louis. "Don't hang back here because of me, hmm?"

"I won't," Harry promised. "We're just taking a bit of a break for now."

Soon enough, Kathleen wanted to go on the dancefloor again, and Harry went with her. The DJ had put on a slower number, and they were able to dance closely, holding each other, without feeling self-conscious. Soon enough, however, the dance music started up again,. 

"Hey, mate," said Louis, walking past him, whispering in his ear, heading for the middle of the dancefloor.

"Hey, Louis. Don't do anything I wouldn't."

"I have free reign, then." Louis headed off into the crowd.

Harry shook his head. Incorrigible. Just then, he caught sight of someone he knew. It was Nick Grimshaw. He hadn't seen him for a little while; too busy. Nick was dancing with a hot girl. "Kathleen, come and meet my friend!"

Harry went up and tapped Nick on the shoulder. "Harry, my mate!" said Nick, grabbing him in a hug, before stepping back to make introductions. "This is Stacey."

"Kathleen, this is Nick. Nick, this is my girlfriend, Kathleen."

Nick raised his eyebrows, before turning to Kathleen and saying, "A pleasure to meet you, Kathleen," giving her a peck on the cheek. "You here by yourselves?" asked Nick.

"No, I'm here with all the gang, and their girlfriends."

"A real night out, huh?"

"We've been so busy with interviews and stuff, it's good to get away, enjoy ourselves."

"Not been bothered by too many fans?"

"Not too many, no."

"I can get us all a room out the back."

"Can you? That would be great. I'm sick of shouting at everyone."

"I'll go and arrange it now. You're going to be here?"

"Yes, me and Kathleen are going to dance."

"See you soon," said Nick, leaving with Stacey following.

"He seems nice," said Kathleen.

"Yeah, he's been a bit of a mentor over the past while. Come on, let's dance." Harry shook himself to loosen up and began dancing in his usual wild style, Kathleen more sedate in front of him. He checked her up and down. She really was a beautiful girl. He was lucky to have her. He wondered if she was dating before she met him. It seemed impossible such a beautiful girl wouldn't have a line of guys waiting for her. Instead she'd chosen him. She was two years older than him but didn't seem to mind the age difference.

Nick was soon back. "Come on. Grab your friends."

"Come on, Kathleen. We can go back to dancing afterwards, if you like."

Harry went back to their table. A few new faces were sat at it. Fans, Harry could tell, by the femaleness and the ecstatic looks. "Guys, we've got a room out the back if you want," he said.

Liam, Zayn, and Niall all looked at him gratefully, before getting up, beckoning their girlfriends. The other girls stood up too, but Nick was firm. "VIPs only, I'm sorry ladies," he said. "Can't break policy."

"Thanks, Nick," said Liam. "I was beginning to go spare over one of the girls fawning on me right in front of Danielle."

"Not a problem." Nick led the way towards the back of the club. A man was standing by a door, painted in the same colour as the wall so as to blend in. "This your party, Nick?" he said, opening the door.

"That's right."

"There's a couple of others in there, but I'm sure you'll find plenty of room." They entered a room full of plush lounges, and a small bar to one side. The nose was much lessened in here. Harry noticed a few people over near the bar. The doorman said, "The bar has basics; beer, wine, bourbon, that sort of thing. Elliot will serve you whatever you want. If you want something fancier, he'll go and fetch it from the main bar. Toilets are on the back wall."

"Thanks, mate. You're a legend," said Nick. 

"Our own private bar," said Niall looking around in awe.

Elliot headed towards them. "Can I get you anything?"

They all began placing orders, until Elliot finally said, "No more for now, I'll get the rest afterwards."

"Where's Louis, anyone know?" asked Harry.

"He was back on the dancefloor last I saw him," said Liam.

"I'd better go and tell him where we are. No, it's okay Kathleen, you stay here." He went back out the door, and said to the doorman, "I'm bringing one more friend back. Is that okay?"

"Whatever you want, sir."

***

Harry went to their former table first. Sure enough, he caught up with Louis, standing and staring at the table. "Where's everyone gone, Hazza?"

"Come and see. We've got our own private bar."

"Good. I need another drink."

Elliot was coming back with a second round of drinks by the time he led Louis into the room. "Would you like to order, sirs?" he asked them.

They both placed an order and went over to where the others had set up, on a series of plush lounges. 

"Harry!" called Nick, and patted the empty space next to him. "Come over here!"

Harry obliged. It was good to see Nick again. They fell into conversation. Harry kept an eye out for where Kathleen was. She was in conversation with the girls, so all was good there. He next looked out for Louis. Louis was on the opposite couch, looking at Nick. Was it his imagination, or did Louis look a little jealous? Harry had for a while there spent quite a bit of time with Nick, going out, having fun. He'd probably had a minor crush on him. Well, it wasn't if he was going to get anywhere with Louis. But it was an interesting reaction from Louis. He wondered if Louis felt jealous with the amount of time he'd spent with Nick in the past. Louis had tended to be in bed when Harry got home after nights out with Nick, his door shut, his light off. The light off was Louis' way of saying, 'do not disturb', even when one night they were off at 9:00pm after a migraine had made Harry return home early. Had Louis been lying in bed, awake, stewing with jealousy? The thought made Harry feel gratified. Now Louis knew how he felt when he spent time with Eleanor. Harry tried not to feel jealous, of course, because he and Eleanor were friends, too, but he didn't like it when she was in town for longer than a couple of days.

Just then, Liam engaged Louis in conversation, so the daggers look was off Nick for the moment. 

"I say, your friend Louis," said Nick to Harry. "He doesn't like me much, does he?"

"He's just possessive," said Harry.

"You two live together. Surely he can handle you having fun with one of your friends?"

"Ignore him."

"I've been trying to, but if looks could kill..."

"I know. But he's distracted now."

"Thank heaven."

He and Nick chatted for a little while longer. It was nice to catch up with his friend. He caught a glimpse of Louis glancing over once or twice, but the daggers looks had settled down. Louis shifted seats to go talk to Niall, and Zayn sat down in his vacated place. 

"Hey, this is nice, isn't it, Harry?"

"Yeah, but I want to go dancing again soon." He glanced at Kathleen again; she was still talking merrily with the girls. 

"I'm just getting up for a minute," Nick told Harry, and headed for the toilets. Louis must have had 360 degree vision, because the next thing he knew, a warm body was flinging itself down beside him. 

"Hey, Hazza."

"Hey yourself. You been okay tonight?"

"Much better than I was earlier. I don't know what was up with me. Maybe I caught some of your melancholy."

"I'm not melancholic anymore."

"You are a little bit," observed Louis. "Are things with Kathleen not working out?"

"No, we're fine. She's great."

"And yet, I still get this sense from you."

"What sense?" said Harry.

"That you're waiting for someone else to come along. Kathleen's not the right one."

"No, she's good. I'm really trying to make it work. I mean, look at her. What guy would turn her down?"

"She is something to look at," agreed Louis. 

Nick came back just then. "Can I have my spot back, Louis?"

"I want to talk to Harry for a bit. You can have him again later."

"All right," said Nick agreeably, and went and sat with the girls. 

Louis put his arm around Harry's shoulder. "It's lucky you've got friends in high places. This is nice."

"Isn't it? We can actually hear each other talk."

There was silence between them for a few moments, but Harry could see on Louis' face that he was gathering to say something, so remained quiet.

"Harry," Louis began.

"Yes?"

Louis squeezed his shoulder. "It's just... I can't imagine my life without you."

"Me neither."

"You can ask for anything--anything--and I will give it to you."

"Is this because you're jealous of Nick?" Harry asked him.

"No, I mean it, Harry. Anything you want from me, I'm yours."

"You are jealous of Nick."

"All right, I'm jealous of Nick. I wish I could have you to myself, but I know that's not reasonable, so don't worry, I'll live with it."

"How drunk are you, Louis Tomlinson?"

"Oh, definitely on my way," said Louis. With that, he skolled the last of his drink. "Where's that waiter?" Louis waved a hand, and Elliot responded immediately. 

"Yes, sir?"

"Another, please."

"Get me another, too," said Harry, figuring he may as well finish off his own glass.

"Harry, Harry, you're gonna get pissed."

"Not half as pissed as you, mate."

A little more conversation, and their drinks came. Louis still had his arm around Harry. He obviously hadn't forgotten it was there, because he squeezed Harry's shoulder from time to time. Harry looked towards Nick, and met his eyes. Nick raised his eyebrows.

"I think Nick wants his seat back, Louis," said Harry, watching Nick come over.

Louis squeezed him harder than ever, whispered in his ear, "You're mine, Harry," and got up. At least he was being gracious about it. The 'You're mine, Harry' tingled down Harry's spine. Possessive Louis was so much fun. 

Louis went to sit with the girls, in the spot Nick had vacated. Quickly, he had them laughing about something. 

"So, your boyfriend has left us in peace," said Nick.

"He's not my boyfriend."

"I didn't mean to offend you, Harry, but I have never seen such possessiveness from one friend towards another."

"He got back up when you came, didn't he?"

"What did he say to you? What were his last words?"

"I can't tell you," said Harry.

"I thought so. Make no mistake, Harry, that is one jealous guy."

"He's only acting like that because his girlfriend isn't down here. Everyone else is paired up. I can't blame him."

"No, it's more than that," said Nick. 

Harry didn't say anything so Nick left the subject alone and chatted about something else. Harry returned the conversation. He watched as Zayn and his girlfriend headed out the door, probably going to the dancefloor. Louis headed out soon afterwards, after skolling his latest drink. Poor guy was going to have a hangover tomorrow. Harry reflected on himself. Yes, he'd probably have one, too. He hadn't planned to drink so much. It was just great, meeting Nick out. 

"It's great that you're here," he said to Nick, with a rush of emotion.

"I'm glad to be here, too. It's been too long, Harry Styles."

"Don't worry, I'm keeping on the straight and narrow."

"No thanks to me," laughed Nick. "It must be Louis keeping you on the straight and narrow."

"He doesn't like to party as much as you do. He's an extrovert, but happier at home."

"Whereas I'm an extrovert who's happiest where it's all happening. Do you want to go dancing?"

"Sure, I'll just grab Kathleen."

"And I'll grab Stacey."

Harry went up to Kathleen and asked if she'd like to go dancing again. She said yes, and obviously Stacey did as well, for Nick was heading to the door with her. Harry followed. 

"You do realise Louis is probably on the dancefloor?" he said to Nick.

"Should be interesting."

For a moment, Harry wondered if Nick was deliberately setting up a confrontation, then decided he wasn't. He was too laid-back for that. It probably amused him, Louis' jealousy, but it wasn't something he was making a big deal of.

Harry and Nick and their respective girlfriends made it to the dancefloor and began to dance along to the music. Harry was out of control, and he knew it. Definitely he'd had his last drink. 

"Whoa, Harry," said Nick, then decided to join him in his manic dance. They both tried to outdo each other with the craziest moves. 

Suddenly Louis was there beside him. "I can out-mental you, Harry," he declared into Harry's ear. 

Harry grabbed his face. "Just try it," he called back.

He and Louis began dancing in a frenzy, arms and legs everywhere. They bumped into each other quite a lot. Nick was off to one side, Harry noticed, keeping the girls company, his eyes on Harry and Louis. Harry and Louis were dancing together. Louis twirled him around. Harry reciprocated. Louis nearly fell over, he was so drunk.

"Hazza! No more circles. My brain is unbalanced!"

"You've had too much to drink!"

"Probably!"

They danced together some more, occasionally grabbing onto each other. Harry was feeling the drink, more than he was comfortable with, if he was honest. He'd definitely finished for the night.

The song ended and Louis grabbed him in a speedy hug. "Mine," he said to Harry, and then started up again with the new song, like nothing had happened. It was frustrating to Harry. Did Louis want him, or didn't he? He noticed Nick talking to Louis. Unexpected. 

All of a sudden, Louis came back over to him. "Harry. I'm..." Then he kissed Harry. He kissed him right on the mouth, his tongue asking for entrance. Harry, taken aback, obliged. Louis' mouth was warm and inviting, his hands on Harry's body enhancing the effect. Harry twirled their tongues together. God, this was Louis, kissing him. It was surreal, yet amazing. Harry put his hands up to Louis' face, kissing him back with equal intensity. In that moment, he forgot everything; the dancefloor, Nick, Kathleen. He only wanted Louis' mouth on his. 

All too soon it ended. Louis pulled back, stared at Harry, then abruptly ran away. Harry could see Nick clapping. Obviously he'd put Louis up to it. He looked at Kathleen, who was merely looking puzzled. Well, he wasn't to blame if his best friend suddenly latched onto him like that, was he?

Nick clapped Harry on the back. "So he did it. I didn't think he'd dare."

"Oh, he did it, all right," said Harry. "What were you two doing, playing truth or dare?"

"Something like that."

"He's run away."

"He's repressed, Harry. It'll be good for him in the long term."

"You want us to get together?"

"I want you to be happy, Harry. For some reason, Louis makes you happy. You talk about him all the time. I'm not blind."

"You might have made it worse. He's going to pretend to forget about it tomorrow."

"Oh, I have the feeling he won't. I have the feeling he'll talk to you about it."

"He's drunk off his face. He might not even remember."

"Oh, he'll remember that," Nick assured him. 

"What was Louis doing?" Kathleen came up, asking.

"Just kissing me. It's not the first time. We're best mates and all," said Harry, trying to put a lighter spin on it. Kathleen seemed to accept it. They began dancing together, but all the while Harry was thinking of Louis. He hoped he was still in the club; hadn't gone home or anything. They were going to have to talk about it; it was inevitible. Damn Nick; and yet, at the same time, bless Nick. He'd brought out into the open what Harry had merely hoped for.

He needed a drink of water, and a pee. He told Kathleen what he was up to and she nodded, heading back to the room.

"Off so soon, Harry?" asked Nick.

"Water and a whiz."

He went to the main bar, bought some water, drank it back. It was cool and refreshing. He then headed back to the private room, to use the toilets that were no doubt more salubrious than the main ones. After washing his hands, he came back out. Kathleen was chatting to Niall's girl. Danielle must have persuaded Liam to get up and dance again, and Zayn and his girlfriend were also gone. 

"Niall," he said. "Have you seen Louis?"

"Yeah, he told us he was going home. He took a taxi."

Harry closed his eyes, before saying, "Did he say why?"

"No, but he came in with a really odd look on his face. He was really brusque."

"What's up?" Kathleen had come up to sit on his other side. 

"Nothing. Louis has gone home."

"It's probably for the best. I think he was trashed."

"Yeah, I don't doubt it."

"I want to make a move myself," she said. "I don't do late nights too well, and it's already past two."

"I was planning to stay a while, yet. Let the buzz work itself out."

"You do that. I'm fine catching a taxi home."

"Are you sure? Here." Harry pulled out his wallet and handed her some money.

"You don't have to pay for it."

"I want to. Let me, please?" 

"Okay, Mr Generous. I'll accept."

"I'm not generous, I'm loaded," Harry reminded her.

"I hope you're sensible with the rest of your money."

"I am. I own an investment property, and I have some shares and cash in a high-yield account. I'm diversified."

"Good to hear. I'll just call my taxi, if you don't mind." She pulled out her phone and did so. "They said fifteen minutes."

"That gives us time for this," said Harry. He leaned over and kissed her. They had a bit of a snog-fest before Harry escorted her out to wait for the taxi. He couldn't help but compare their kisses to the one he shared with Louis. The one he shared with Louis had sent tingles all through him. The ones he shared with Kathleen were pleasant, but not in the same league. Damn you, Louis Tomlinson, he thought to himself. Just when I'm trying to make a relationship work, you go and do that to me. And he probably wouldn't want to talk about it either, despite what Nick said. Well, he was going to. Harry would make sure of that. He stood at the kerb beside Kathleen and wondered how he shouuld go about it? How do you approach soberly a drunken kiss you shared with your best friend?

"You're looking very thoughtful," observed Kathleen.

"Sorry. Something on my mind."

"Here's a taxi. Let's hope it's mine, this time." They'd already had one false alarm. The driver pushed open the passenger door as a few others swooped on the taxi. "Name?" he said to Kathleen, who'd got there first.

"Kathleen," she said, and the driver nodded and beckoned her to get in. She kissed Harry one final time. He waved to her as they drove away, then went back into the club. Time to burn off the rest of the alcohol buzz, before it switched into hangover territory.

***

Harry eventually stumbled in the door to his flat a little before 5:00am. He'd kept his promise to himself; no more drinking. Instead he'd taken to downing water. He was probably going to be up half the morning, peeing, but at least he wouldn't have much of a hangover. He went upstairs. All was quiet. Louis was obviously sleeping; door shut, light off. Sometimes he went to bed with the light on; that was how Harry knew he was welcome to come in. Lights off meant 'do not disturb'. 

It was probably just as well, anyway. He was in no fit state to have a serious conversation at the moment. He stripped off and flung himself into bed. 

He didn't have the greatest of sleeps. He tossed and turned, got up to pee, tossed and turned some more, fell asleep, woke up with an aching bladder. Damnit, not again. It was eight in the morning. He fell back into bed and this time managed to stay asleep. He woke at midday with a bit of a hangover. Not as bad as it would have been had he not skolled all that water. He got up, and had a welcome shower, washing all the detritous of last night away. He brushed his teeth and looked in the mirror whilst doing so. He had bags under his eyes. Oh well. A small price to pay for a night of huge fun.

He left his room. Louis' door was still closed, and no sound came. He knocked on the door. "Louis?"

"I'm asleep," said Louis.

Harry opened the door. Louis was still in bed, his hair in disarray, a tired look on his face. "Do you want some breakfast? I'm cooking."

Louis looked relieved. "Yes, please."

"Good. You look terrible. Have a shower. Get your butt downstairs in twenty minutes."

Louis groaned, and rolled out of bed, to sit up on the edge, ruffling his hands through his hair. Harry left him to his misery--he'd noticed the bucket by the bed--and made a start on breakfast. 

Twenty minutes later, Louis came downstairs. He came into the kitchen. He was moving cautiously, Harry noticed, although he looked much better after having had a shower.

"Hangover?" said Harry.

"Mmm."

"Have you taken something for it?"

"Yes," said Louis quietly.

Harry hadn't bothered for his; it was only a mild annoyance, after all, not the kind of hangover Louis was obviously suffering. He served up their breakfasts--a hearty fried rice, using leftovers from last night--and sat down adjacent to Louis. "Any regrets?"

"Drinking too much. Mmm, this is good."

"Of course it is. I cooked it. Any others?"

Louis looked at him, fork halfway to his mouth. He looked at Harry, looked down, looked back up again. His food fell off his fork, but he didn't notice. He opened his mouth, closed it again. Harry felt his eyes locked to Louis'. He stayed perfectly still, waiting for Louis to make the first move. 

"No," said Louis, "no other regrets." He put his fork to his mouth, and frowned when there was nothing on it.

"It fell off," laughed Harry.

"In the indescribable moment between pleasure and pain," murmured Louis, fetching himself another forkful. 

"Are you quoting something?"

"No. I'm just... never mind."

Harry let him off the hook for now. It was obviously not the best time to discuss the kiss. He was relieved that Louis was acting almost normally, however. That meant one of two things; either he'd forgotten about it, or he was accepting that it had happened. Harry hoped it was the latter. 

They finished up, and rinsed their plates in the sink. "It's still your turn to do the dishes," Harry said.

"But Kathleen did mine."

"She did not. She just did dishes. It's still your turn."

"God, I hate doing dishes."

"If you get onto them straight away, it will be my turn again."

"No, I'm too hungover to do dishes," said Louis, and wandered off into the main room. He was wearing tracksuit pants and a t-shirt; barefoot and bare-armed. Harry rinsed the frying pan and followed him in. Louis had the TV on music TV, no surprise. 

Harry sat down next to him on the couch. "Do you want to talk?"

"About what?" said Louis, not looking at him.

"About the kiss."

"No, I don't want to talk about it."

"Well, I want to."

"Harry, I'm hungover. Anything I say right now is questionable."

"Does that also mean any acts you performed whilst drunk are questionable?"

"Maybe," muttered Louis.

"I don't accept that. You'd mentioned it earlier that night, that you wanted to french kiss me but weren't drunk enough at the time."

"Nick Grimshaw put me up to it. He dared me to french kiss you."

"So this is all Nick's fault? Louis, I can't believe I'm hearing this."

Louis looked at him. "What do you want me to say, Harry?"

"I want you to take responsibility for your actions."

"All right, Harry." Louis swung around on the couch to face him, drawing a leg up. "I wanted to kiss you like that. I got a real jolt out of it when you returned the kiss. I didn't expect that to happen. I thought you'd push me away and laugh it off. I never expected you to reciprocate."

And that was the other side. The side Louis wasn't responsible for. Harry had responded. He'd kissed him back. Now Harry felt himself being scruitinised, by Louis. The ball was in his court. He hadn't expected that. He'd expected Louis to have to sort it out. He and Louis stared at each other. Louis looked so beautiful, despite his hangover. His hair was an adorable mess, his forearms were wrapped around his knee, his toes were nudging Harry's thigh. It was a defensive posture, but one that still spoke of intimacy. 

"Louis, I-" Harry stopped, and started again. "I just responded," he said, lamely, knowing he was a coward.

"No, you didn't just respond, Harry. You grabbed me by the face and deepened the kiss. You weren't just reacting."

"What if I said I wanted it?" said Harry.

"Are you saying that?"

"Do you know what the answer means? It's going to redefine our whole lives together."

"You have to answer."

Harry looked down. "Yes, I wanted it," he whispered. 

"And now, where does that leave us?"

"I don't know, Louis! Can't you help me out, here?"

Their eyes met. Louis hugged his knee tighter. 

"I want you, Harry Styles," said Louis. 

Harry held his breath.

"I've wanted you for so long," continued Louis, "I can't remember a time when I didn't. You're right, it wasn't Nick's fault, I would have anyway at some point in the future. I thought you might be too drunk to remember. Hell, I thought I might be too drunk to remember. But it needed to be done, I know that. Something needs to give, Harry."

"I want you too. But I haven't been the obstacle, Eleanor has."

"Eleanor has not been the obstacle, Harry. You have. You with all your party girls. I had no idea you wanted me the way I wanted you."

"Louis, I had no idea, either!"

"You mean I wasn't obvious enough, with the hugs, the kisses, the 'I love you's?"

"I returned those hugs, those kisses, those 'I love you's. The night I came home with Kathleen, the first thing I did was go to your room, and tell you I loved you. What else more could I have done?"

Louis rubbed his hands though his hair. "This is so messed up."

"What about Eleanor? You've been with her for ages. You've even talked about moving in with her."

"I was trying to see your reaction. I like her a lot, Harry, but it's like a friendship with benefits. It doesn't come close to matching the way I feel about you."

"Are you saying you really love me?"

"I really love you."

"You want to get naked with me?" Louis blinked furiously at him. "That's a part of what we're talking about, Louis. It's not just hugs and kisses anymore. It's much more than that."

"Yes, I want to get naked with you. I want us to be together. I want us to do everything together."

Harry leaned forward, carefully watching Louis. Louis was watching him just as carefully back. Harry pecked him on the lips, then sat himself back, waiting for Louis to do something.

Louis dropped his knee from its defensive position and grabbed hold of Harry, kissing him back. His tongue ran around Harry's lips and asked for entrance. Harry obliged. Their kiss deepened, tongues moving together; but gently, like Harry was something fragile that Louis might break. They came up for air and sat back, looking once again at each other. Louis was flushed. Harry could tell he was the same. 

"Harry, I love you," said Louis, and flung himself on Harry, who was forced back down onto the couch. He could feel their legs intertwine as their tongues touched together again, sending a jolt down Harry's spine. Their kiss deepened once again, Louis completeing a slow, almost tortorous examination of Harry's mouth. Harry had heard Louis say before in interviews that he liked long, slow kisses. Suddenly, he liked them too. He turned them around on the couch, exploring Louis' mouth as Louis had explored his. Their mouths were wet, lips moving together, and Harry abruptly felt the hardness in Louis' crotch as he leaned up against Harry.

Harry pulled away. "Are you sure you're not too hungover?"

Much to his regret, Louis answered, "No, I'm not sure. I don't know if I could go through with it."

"Louis, you're killing me."

"Sorry, Hazza. Let's just make out for a while, yeah?" Louis obviously loved to kiss. He was back, searching for Harry's lips immediately. Harry tried to ignore his own arousal. It was quite possible, after all, that he was still too drunk to go through with it properly as well. He tried to stop grinding himself against Louis too much, and instead enjoyed their make-out session, which lasted for a long time. Louis was a wonderful kisser. He teased and tormented Harry with his mouth alone, making him feel almost desperate.

"Haz, I'd love to get you off right now," said Louis. "But I really am hungover. Let's do it when I can appreciate it more, hmm?"

"Are you feeling tired?"

"After last night, yeah. I could do with some more sleep."

"Let's go sleep together. I need some more sleep, too."

"Okay," said Louis. Harry clambered off him, and Louis got up. Harry tried to ignore his arousal. Louis was aroused too, so he didn't feel embrarrassed. "Come to my bed," said Harry. 

He took Louis' hand and brought him up the stairs. "Ah, the infamous Styles bedroom," said Louis. "Tell me you've loved no one more than me that you've brought back here."

"None more than you," Harry assured him, and they stopped for another kiss, before finally making their way to the bed. 

"Is it okay if I take my tracksuit pants off?" asked Louis.

"It's mandatory," said Harry, undressing himself beside the bed. "And your t-shirt too, while you're at it."

Eventually, they were both stripped down to their boxers. They looked at each other from across the bed. Rather, it was a check out session. For the first time, Harry felt he could check out Louis without any shame or guilt. Louis obviously felt the same, for he spent a long time looking Harry up and down, before saying, "Let's get into bed."

The both climbed in. Harry flung the covers over them, and then they were embracing, body to body.

"I love your body," Louis said, moving his arms all over Harry's back. "You're just so hot."

"I love yours, too."

"Are you kidding? I'm nowhere near as built as Liam, or Zayn, for that matter."

"I love you just the way you are," said Harry firmly, leaning down to kiss him. They kissed for a while before Louis sighed and said, "Hangover, remember? I want to be at my best for you."

"Of all the worst times to have a hangover," grumbled Harry, but he pulled himself away from Louis and snuggled down against his pillow, feeling drowsy despite his hard-on. 

Louis moved closer and bent his head down, kissing him gently on the lips. "I love you, Harry," he said, before settling down beside Harry, his arm and leg leaning up against Harry's.

"I love you too, Lou," said Harry, and they fell asleep together like that, touching side to side.

***

Harry woke up. It was a little after 4:00pm. His arm was entwined with Louis'; so was his leg. It seemed Louis had moved across him possessively whilst asleep, because Louis was definitely on top of him. He took the available time to drink in the sight of Louis, so close to him. Louis breathed gently, barely a snore emenating from him. Harry found the minor snore cute. It certainly hadn't stopped him from sleeping. He relished the feeling of being held under Louis' grasp, his arm and leg around him. Just as he thought it might be time to wake Louis up, Louis stirred. 

"Mmm, mine," said Louis, capturing his lips. 

Harry reciprocated. They twined together. Harry felt his cock beginning to harden against Louis' thigh. Louis pulled away. "I'm still too hung-over," he said, weakly.

"It doesn't matter to me. Louis, I want you."

"We have complications to deal with first." Louis looked at him seriously. "We both have girlfriends."

"God, I don't want to break Kathleen's heart."

"I don't want to break Eleanor's."

"But we have to," said Harry.

"Are you completely, utterly sure about this, Harry? Because if I wake up tomorrow and you blame being hung over-"

"Not gonna happen. Besides, I'm not that hungover. Not like you. Are you sure you're sure?"

"I wouldn't be planning on breaking up with Eleanor if I wasn't," said Louis. "I do have feelings for her, Harry. Just not in the way I feel about you."

"This is insane. I can't believe we've both felt the same way, and it's taken us this long to do something about it."

"Having to actually deny to the public you're in a relationship with your best friend doesn't help matters."

"No. That pushed the truth further away," agreed Harry. "I gave up when you said that. I repressed everything."

"Harry Styles, repressed?"

"Don't tease. I'm serious. Wait, let me get my phone." It was on the opposite bedside table to where Harry was. He clambered across Louis to get it.

"Mmm," said Louis, patting him on the arse. Louis Tomlinson's hand was on his arse, just when he needed to phone Kathleen.

"Louis," whined Harry, because now Louis was kneading him.

"Sorry." Louis withdrew and Harry felt the loss. But he had to phone Kathleen. Right now. Make things clear, from his end at least. He settled back against the headboard, looking down at Louis, at his bare shoulders, his messy hair, his beautiful face. Then he had to look away, because the call was connecting.

"Kathleen?"

"Harrry! It's so nice to hear from you. I had a great time last night."

Harry closed his eyes. This was going to be tough. But not as half as tough as it would be for Louis, he reminded himself. "Yeah, Kathleen, I had a great time too, but I've been thinking and I don't think it's working out between us."

"What do you mean?"

"I just don't want to leave this going on any longer. It's not going to work out."

"I was warned about you," said Kathleen, and for the first time Harry heard a frostier tone in her voice. It upset him, even as he knew it was necessary.

"I'm sorry." Louis had pulled himself up beside Harry and was listening in as best he could. Harry let him. Maybe it would give him some pointers for how to deal with Eleanor.

"You lead me on. I let you have sex with me. My body is not something to be used and discarded, Harry Styles!"

He closed his eyes. "I'm sorry. What can I say? It could've worked, I meant for it to work, but it didn't."

"Is there someone else? Kathleen asked. Harry was silent. He didn't know what to say to that. Kathleen drew her own conclusions. "There is someone else, isn't there? Why didn't I listen to Eleanor? I thought I could change you, I really did. I thought I could get under your playboy superficiality, and I'm sure I did, but you just won't accept it, will you?"

"Kathleen, this someone else, it's not just another fling. It's been brewing for a while."

"Then what right did you have to take me out on a date?"

"Because I thought my feelings weren't reciprocated, and I wanted a romance. I'm sorry it had to be you, but it was. I don't know what else I can say."

"I'm so mad at you, Harry. I was falling for you."

"I'm sorry," repeated Harry lamely.

"Well, have a nice life, Harry Styles. It was nice knowing you." She hung up.

"Phew," said Louis.

"You heard all of that?"

"Just about. How the hell am I going to deal with Eleanor?"

Whatever Harry felt right now, it would feel ten times worse for Louis when he broke up with Eleanor. 

"You've got to," said Harry. "For me."

"Give me your phone. It's after classes, she'll be free."

Harry handed his phone wordlessly to Louis. Louis took a deep breath, and phoned Eleanor. "Eleanor, hi, it's me.... no, I'm not down, or anything, just a bit hungover... why am I calling from Harry's phone? Well, that's kind of what I'm calling about." Louis looked at Harry and quickly looked away again. Harry tried to listen in as best he could. Louis let him, holding the phone a little way away from his ear. "It's just... Eleanor, I don't know how to say this. You've been wonderful and all, you've been really the best. It's just, someone else has come into my life."

"Oh, very funny, Louis. You and your pranks," Harry heard Eleanor say.

"No, I'm being serious. There's someone else."

"What are you saying, Louis?"

"I'm breaking up with you, El. I'm sorry."

"Has one of the guys put you up to this? Because I don't think it's very funny."

"No, seriously, El. It can no longer be between us. We're finished. There's someone else."

"Since when?"

"Since... I don't know."

"You don't know?" said Eleanor, sounding incredulous.

"You can say it's me," said Harry to Louis. 

"Who was that?"

"Shit. Nobody. Okay, it was Harry."

"Why is Harry listening in on this conversation?"

"Because... because Harry's the one I want to be with."

"This is a prank," repeated Eleanor. "Louis Tomlinson, it's not funny."

It took Louis a long time to persuade Eleanor that it was not a prank, that he was, in fact, planning to be with Harry.

"Have you had sex yet?" she asked bluntly, when she finally stopped arguing.

"No. I wanted to do things right. To break up with you first."

"Well, thanks Louis, for being so considerate. You're ruining my life, you know that? My hopes, my dreams-"

"I never promised you anything."

"Oh, that's how you get out of it, is it? You never promised me anything? We were together, Lou. I heard the words, 'I love you' pass your lips. If that's not a promise, I don't know what is."

"I never intended for this to happen."

"You never intended to want to fuck Harry, it's just suddenly come about? I don't believe you. I know how you are with him. I thought it was just a great bromance, you know? I bought into your lies, Louis."

"They weren't lies at the time."

"But they're lies now, aren't they?"

Louis closed his eyes. "I'm sorry, El, I really am. I never meant to do this to you. I honestly thought Harry and I were just a bromance. It's just-"

"What happened? Why suddenly are you throwing me over for Harry? Lou? I have the right to know."

"I discovered he returned my feelings. I never thought he would, honestly."

"So now you're saying you've been in this relationship this whole time with me, whilst secretly harbouring desires for your best friend?"

"No, not exactly. I was in denial."

"Denial is a river in Africa," said Eleanor. "I can't accept this, Louis, I can't."

"You have to, El. It's real. I'm with Harry, now. Please don't go to the papers."

"Is that how you think of me? That I'd go to the papers over this?"

"No, I'm sorry, El, I didn't mean it in that way. I meant, Harry and I need our privacy for a few days."

"Oh, I'll give you privacy. I'll give you all the privacy you want. I can't believe this is happening. You said you loved me!" Abruptly, Eleanor hung up.

"Whoa," said Harry, unable to think of anything intelligent to say. 

Louis handed back the phone, which Harry put back on the bedside table. He looked wrecked. "That was horrible. And the worst of it, I don't think it's over. She's still half-convinced this is a prank."

Harry hugged Louis closely, and Louis hugged him back. "I'm here for you. I'll be here for you. Whatever you want, I'm yours."

"Oh, Harry," Louis sighed into Harry's hair, and kissed him on the ear. "You're all I could ever want. This is just a bit of pain I deserve to go through."

"You don't deserve it."

"I do, for not being honest. I just honestly believed you never reciprocated my feelings."

"You were honest, with what you knew at the time."

"I suppose so, it's just... I don't want to think about it anymore."

"Help me with dinner?" suggested Harry.

"Yes," siad Louis, never looking so eager to cook in his life. "it'll help me take my mind off it."

***

Harry and Louis prepared dinner together. It was nice working together like this, Louis preparing the ingredients, Harry putting them together to make a serviceable meal. It was nothing fancier than mincemeat and vegetables and spaghetti, but getting Louis involved was aces, as far as Harry was concerned. "I'll even help you with the dishes," he said, in a moment of passion--or extreme stupidity.

Louis held him to his word. Louis washed up, while Harry dried. "Whose turn is it now?" asked Louis. 

"Your's, still. You don't get out of it so easily."

"Damn," said Louis. 

Harry thought about tonight. Would he get sex yet, or was Louis still going to be too hungover? He rather thought it was the latter, though hoped for the former.

They lay out on the couch together for a while, Louis against the couch, Harry cradled in front of him. He could feel, suddenly, halfway through the show they were watching, that Louis was getting hard. Louis tried to shift back, but Harry followed him. 

"Harry, don't. You're killing me," said Louis.

"Why are you still denying what you feel?"

"I'm not denying what I feel. I'm still too hungover. I want the first time to be special. Not me with a headache."

"I'll accept it," said Harry. "But you're on thin ice, Tomlinson."

"I broke up with my girlfriend for you, didn't I? I'm serious about you, Harry."

They'd both checked their phones in the meantime. They'd checked Harry's phone first. "Oh. You've gotten a lot of messages from Eleanor," Louis had said. "I probably have, too." He'd left to check, and sure enough, messages from Eleanor. "I don't know what to do, Harry," said Louis, coming to him for a hug.

"You'll keep on telling her it's over, right? That's all you can do."

"I feel like I've led her on, or something, when I never meant to. I could've shacked up with Eleanor, you know. That's how serious we were."

"We're more serious," said Harry firmly, and Louis, after a mind-blowing kiss, couldn't disagree.

There was one item left on the agenda. Sex. Harry wanted it with Louis. Louis was still crying hangover.

"Is it just an excuse?" said Harry, wrapped up in Louis' arms that night. "Or is it for real?"

"You know how drunk I was last night. It's for real. I want it to be special between us, not something that's affected by my short-term memory loss."

"Whose turn is it to do the dishes?" asked Harry immediately, and Louis sighed and said, "Mine." 

"Your memory is working fine," said Harry, and snuggled into Louis. His leg was between Louis' legs, his arms around his neck and body. He stroked Louis' body up and down. 

"Harry," sighed Louis. "What have I done to deserve you?"

"You've been you. I love everything about you. Yes, even when you were with Eleanor, I still loved you. You still saved special stuff for me."

"That I did."

"I'm so lucky," said Harry, kissing his shoulder. He tried to kiss down as far as he could along Louis' collarbone. Louis writhed a little, but settled down once Harry stopped. Harry knew Louis could feel his hard-on against his thigh. He sighed, suffering through the torture. He wasn't going to get any tonight. 

Louis stilled, said, "Good night, Harry."

"Goodnight Louis."

"Are you comfortable?"

"Absolutely," said Harry, "except for my raging hard-on."

"Sorry about that. Tomorrow morning, I promise."

"I'm holding you to that promise," said Harry, snuggling closer. 

"You're not in pain, are you?"

"Only a little bit."

He waited as Louis fell asleep; he could tell by his rythmic breathing. He kept trying to ignore his boner in the hope that it would go away, but then he kept noticing the feeling of being wrapped around Louis. Should he go deal with it? He wanted to, but even more he wanted to save himself for Louis. Eventually, it settled down, and Harry fell asleep, too.

***  
They tossed and turned through the middle of the night; Harry with sexual frustration, Louis, no doubt, still dealing with his hangover. Harry woke up again for the final time that morning, Louis entwined around him just like he'd been yesterday morning. 

"Louis? Are you awake?" he whispered. No response. He waited another half an hour, wrapped in Louis' arms, before he asked the question again. This time Louis stirred, made an almost inaudible noise.

"You're awake, aren't you? Come on." Harry stroked a hand through Louis' hair and was gratified to see his eyes blink open. 

"Do you have a tissue? I've got sleep in my eyes," said Louis, and Harry fetched him a tissue, which he used against his eyes. "Where's your bin?"

Harry pointed behind him, and Louis executed a perfect shot into the bin. 

"Not hungover this morning, I guess," said Harry.

"No. But, morning breath?" 

"Morning breath? Louis, I don't care." To prove it he kissed Louis, deeply. All he could taste was the tantilising taste of Louis. Their kiss deepened, until Harry was lying across Louis, their cocks hardening, bumping together.

"Are you sure?" breathed Louis.

"Are you shy?"

"A little," admitted Louis. "I've never done it with a guy before."

"Relax. It's just me," said Harry, leaning down for another kiss. He took the kiss away from Lous' mouth, then, along his throat, onto his collarbone. 

"Oh, yes, Harry." Louis was rubbing his hands all along Harry's back, from his shoulders down to his arse. Harry moved back up, feeling their erections bump together. It was hot. It ws the hottest thing he'd ever felt in his life. Louis Tomlinson, with a hard on for him. It was unclassifiable. 

"You're not still hung over?" Harry asked, to make sure.

"No, I'm entirely sober. Oh, Hazza. I want you."

Harry leaned down to kiss him again. Louis' kisses were the best he'd ever experienced. No rushing for Louis, no duelling; it was all about the sensuous experience. Louis' hand moved to Harry's arse, and massaged, even as the kiss deepened. Harry groped around, feeling disoriented, trying to find Louis' arse. He got a hold of it, finally, kneading his skin through his boxers, revelling in the sensual experience. Louis moaned into his mouth. This was aces. This was the best thing Harry could think of. He moved his hand to the front of Louis' boxers, felt his firm cock through the cloth. Louis moaned again. "Harry." he said, and immediately moved his hand to the front of Harry's boxers. Harry couldn't help but groan, and move his hips against Louis' hand. They were touching each other freely, and Harry couldn't imagine anything better. He moved his hand inside Louis' waistband, grabbing his cock, and Louis twisted and moaned, "Harry, oh god."

"Pay me back," whispered Harry, and before he knew it, Louis was pulling his boxers down and massaging Harry's hard cock. 

"Take them off," said Louis.

"Take yours off."

Both of them moved quickly to dispense with their underwear, before moving their hands back to each other's bodies. Harry, on top, ran his hands down Louis' chest; Louis ran his hand down Harry's. They were pressed together so there was barely any room to manouvre, their hard cocks rubbing against each other.

"Kiss me, Harry," Louis moaned, and Harry awarded him with a full-on kiss, exploring Louis' mouth like there was no tomorrow. He got that kisses meant a lot to Louis; and he wasn't adverse to a make-out session himself.

"Harry, you're amazing," said Louis, when they finally came up for air.

"Mmm. Louis, I love your body." Harry bent down, kissed down his chest, down his abdomen, to his cock. Louis jerked as Harry kissed his cock on the tip. Harry went down on him.

"Oh, god," Louis groaned. "Harry. Harry."

Harry's tongue swirled around the head of Louis' cock, before he tried to take him down. He wasn't experienced at this, and it showed, only able to take around half of Louis' cock. Louis wasn't complaining, though. Instead he was thrusting oh so gently into Harry's mouth, obviously aware that Harry was at his limit. Harry murmured around Louis' cock, which only made him thrust up more. 

"Harry, are you sure?" said Louis.

"Mmm." Harry hummed along the side of Louis' cock, back to the top, licking his underside, before taking him on again. He moved his hand down the rest of Louis' cock, wanting him to feel as good as he possibly could. 

"Harry, I'm going to cum." Louis pulled Harry off him and Harry felt momentarily bereft, before he went back to jerking Louis off. "Oh, Harry, Harry!' Louis came with a few more tugs, splashing onto his chest, one jet hitting him in the forehead. Harry licked that one off, before writhing against Louis, not caring that he was getting cum on his body. "Louis," he moaned, and rolled over, waiting for Louis to reciprocate in whatever way he felt like.

"Do you want me to suck you?" said Louis.

Harry's cock jumped at the words. "Definitely."

Louis obligingly went down to suck Harry off. It was the most amazing, sensual experience Harry had ever had. Louis might be inexperienced, but he'd obviously been sucked off enough times to know just what to do with his tongue, his mouth. 

"Is this okay?" said Louis at one point.

"It's more than okay. It's perfect." Watching Louis, his mouth wrapped around his cock, was the pinnacle. Louis' hand worked along Harry's length and it wasn't long before Harry was close to the edge. "Ah, Louis, I'm cumming." Louis didn't move, kept his mouth on Harry's cock, and Harry pulsed into his mouth, his throat, feeling better than he'd ever felt in his life. Louis swallowed and swallowed, increasing the sensations, and then came up to kiss Harry. 

"You're so sexy," he said, capturing Harry's mouth with his own. Hary could taste his own cum in Louis' mouth and that in itself was sensual. Louis had taken his load. How could a boy be happier?

They hugged again, the sensations almost overwhelming to Harry. He couldn't believe he'd had Louis; he'd actually had Louis, had gotten him off, and had been brought off in return. The way Louis had swallowed his cum; nothing compared to that. 

"Louis," he said. "I love you, more than I can ever express."

"I love you too, Harry. The same."

They laid down, side by side, Harry still suffering little aftershocks.

"Aren't you glad I wasn't still hungover? This was real, man," Louis said, sliding up Harry's body. "The hottest, most amazing sex I've ever had," said Louis, kissing him intensely. Harry responded, feeling his cock hardening again. 

Louis was going to torture him, though. "Shouldn't we have breakfast? It's late," he said, caressing Harry's body with broad movements like he didn't know how turned on Harry was.

"Ah, Louis, you're too much." Harry turned away and searched for his boxers. There they were, at the end of the bed. He slipped them on and got up.

"You don't have to get up," said Louis. 

"We need breakfast," said Harry, trying to contain his boner in his pants. 

"Honey, you look debauched."

"Don't call me honey," growled Harry, moving down for another kiss. 

"Serious?"

"No."

"Honey."

"Oh, stop it. I have to make breakfast. You," Harry pointed at Louis, "have to do the washing up."

"Amazing sex doesn't get me out of it?"

"No," said Harry firmly. He had a feeling if amazing sex got Louis out of it, he'd never have to do the dishes again.

"Harry," said Louis, as he turned towards the door.

"Yes?' Harry turned back to Louis, looking totally delicious on the bed.

"I love you."

"I love you, too," said Harry, and went back to kiss him. God knows the complications they'd just caused in their lives, but it was worth it, Harry thought. God knows it was worth it. 

They had breakfast; just cereal. Harry was disappointed that Louis had dressed back in his tracksuit pants and t-shirt. He himself was sitting there in just his boxers. Not that it bothered him; he regularly walked around the place naked. It was just that he didn't like Louis to be so covered up.

"We have duties this afternoon," said Louis, scoffing down his cereal.

"Oh no. Not more radio stations?"

"No. Another magazine. You know how they have to get their stories at least three weeks before they print."

"No photo shoot?"

"I don't think so. I'm not sure."

Harry looked at his phone. He'd brought it down with him. It still had the missed calls from Eleanor on it. He deleted them all, and phoned Liam. 

"Liam. Do we have to do a photo shoot this afternoon?"

"No," said Liam. "They're going to use photos from our other sessions."

"Thank god for that," said Harry, and, after a couple more exchanges, ended the call. "What are we going to say to the guys?" he said to Louis.

"I don't know. I hadn't thought about it."

"We have to tell them."

"I guess so. It wouldn't be honest, otherwise."

"Shall we tell them separately or all together?"

"I'd prefer all together," said Louis. "I have a feeling they'd prefer separately, though."

"Yeah, when I think about it, you're right. Who should we tackle first? Liam?"

"I think Liam would be easiest to tell, yeah. We can practice on him for Niall and Zayn."

"I'm not going to get any more sex until tonight, am I?" said Harry, feeling a bit whiny. He was allowed to. He was eighteen and horny, goddamnit, and there was this freaking beautiful boy sitting across the table from him.

"Harry, we have to tell the guys."

"I wish I hadn't mentioned it."

"Well, you did, and I want to get it over and done with."

"This morning? Now?"

"Never a better time than the present," said Louis, picking up his cereal bowl and taking it to the sink. Harry tried to check out his arse but his trackpants were too baggy so he was left tantalised instead, with a hint of arse cheek amongst the bagginess. His t-shirt lifted invitingly, though, when he stretched. He briefly saw the dent of Louis' spine and immeidately wanted to lick it.

"Harry?" Louis had turned around, and could obviously see the lustful intentions on Harry's face. "We don't have time, love. We've got to tell the other guys."

"I know, I know," said Harry, getting up, dumping his bowl in the sink after rinsing it. "I'll go and put some clothes on."

"I'll just go get a jumper," said Louis.

They met back down in the main room. Even more of Louis was now covered up; his arms. He was still barefoot, though. Harry liked that. Louis had nice, slender, boyish feet. It was sexy. Harry himself had thrown on a t-shirt and jeans. He hadn't bothered with shoes either, or a belt for that matter, which probably meant he was going to be hitching up his trousers all morning, but what the hell. "Let's do this," said Harry.

They both went up to Liam's door. "Liam!" they called. "Open up!"

Liam came to the door in a robe. Danielle must be over. They practically lived together now. Harry didn't know why she bothered keeping her own flat anymore.

"We didn't interrupt anything did we, lover boy?" teased Louis.

"No, fortunately for you. I wouldn't have answered otherwise."

"Is this a good time?" said Harry. "I mean, we have something serious to discuss."

"No, it's fine," said Liam, stepping back to allow them in. "Is it okay if I get Danielle?"

Harry and Louis looked at each other. From Louis' expression, Harry could tell he was okay with it, so he said, "Yeah, go ahead. We'll just make ourselves comfortable."

They sat down on one of Liam's couches, together, but a little separate from one another. Harry wanted desperately to be close to Louis, but Louis was looking very nervous so he decided not to push it. Danielle followed Liam out, also dressed in a robe. They both looked adorable as they sat together on the couch.

"So, what's up, guys?" said Liam.

Harry and Louis looked at each other. Harry was suddenly dumstruck, so Louis took over.

"It's like this, Liam, Danielle. This may come as a bit of a shock so I want you to take your time with your response, okay? It's just, Harry and I have got together."

"Got together?" frowned Liam. "What do you mean?"

"We're having sex together, Liam," said Harry.

"Oh." Liam looked taken aback. Probably he shouldn't have been so blunt. In his periphery Louis was looking at him like he shouldn't have been so blunt. But so what? It was the truth they wanted to tell. 

"Are you both happy?" asked Danielle.

"Happier than I've ever been," said Harry.

"So it's serious, then," said Liam. "You're not just trying to shock me."

"No, of course not," said Louis. He touched Harry on the knee. Harry put his hand over Louis'. "We're really together. It's something I've wanted for a long time, something that Harry's wanted for a long time, but we could never be honest with each other. Until now."

Liam looked from one to the other. "I'm happy for you, then," he said. "If it's what you want, and god knows it's not exactly out of the blue, either. You two always had a special bond."

"So you're okay with it?" said Harry.

"Sure, I'm okay. Danielle?"

"I'm fine with it, guys. You make a cute couple."

Harry let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "That's such a relief. I wasn't sure how you'd react."

"I love you guys," said Liam. "All I want is for you to be happy. If that's together, then that's great by me."

"Aw, Liam," said Louis, and got up to hug him. Harry followed suit. They both hugged Danielle as well.

"So this was the serious thing you wanted to talk about?" said Liam, when they'd sat down again.

"No, we've got something even more major lined up. No, honestly, Liam, I'm kidding," said Louis quickly, seeing Liam's eyes go wide. "That's it."

"Thank god for that," said Liam. "I thought you were going to tell me you were quitting the band, or something."

"No. Never," said Louis. "As long as you and Harry and the guys are in, I'm in."

"When did all this happen?" asked Liam.

"It really happened the night we all went out together," said Harry. "Louis french-kissed me, and I made him talk about it the next day."

"So two nights ago. Guys, I really appreciate you telling me straight away. I'd really have hated to have found out later."

"We came to you first, Liam, because we thought you'd be the most accepting," said Louis. "How do you think the other boys will react?"

"I'm sure they'll be supportive of you. Why wouldn't they be?"

It was a reasonable question. Why wouldn't they be?

Louis said, "It's just... it's a major change, that's all."

"As long as we're still a band, everything's fine with me."

And, as it turned out, so it was with Niall and Zayn. They told Niall next. He was alone, thankfully; they didn't know his girlfriend well enough yet to trust her. 

"You're kidding, you guys," said Niall. "I knew it."

"You knew it?" said Louis, incredulously.

"You're always so lovey-dovey towards each other."

"We are not."

"Yes, you are," contradicted Niall. "Why, even when we were out together two nights ago, I saw the looks you were shooting Nick Grimshaw for being so close to Harry."

"You're too observant for your own good," muttered Louis. "That wasn't my finest moment, I'll admit. I thought Harry had a thing for him."

"Me and Nick?" said Harry. "Well, maybe a little bit, once upon a time, but not anymore."

"Wait, you had a thing for Nick Grimshaw?" said Louis seriously.

"It wasn't like I was getting anywhere with you. You were always uppermost in my thoughts."

"This is so cool, guys," said Niall. "All those fans, they were right."

"Niall, that part is not cool," contradicted Louis. "Those are the very fans I ticked off a while ago."

"Are you going public?"

"No, not yet. That's something we'll have to discuss together."

"Don't worry, I won't tell," said Niall. "It's a decision that's up to the two of you."

"Nialler, you're so sweet," said Louis, going over and giving him a hug. Harry followed suit, and Niall looked gratified. 

Then it was Zayn's turn. Again they had to deal with a girlfriend; Perrie, who they didn't know as well as Danielle. They had to have faith that she wouldn't tell.

"Come in, guys," said Zayn, already dressed, unlike Liam and Danielle. Perrie was dressed, too, looking as if she was about to leave. 

"Is this important? Should I stay?" she asked.

"You might be better off hearing it now rather than later," said Louis, so Perrie sat down on the couch beside Zayn, holding her handbag in front of her.

They still hadn't really refined the speech. "I'm gay," said Louis. "Or, at least, bi. So's Harry. We're in love with each other."

"You and Harry?" said Zayn.

"Yes, me and Harry. Since two nights ago."

"I can't believe it," said Zayn.

"It just happened," Louis defended himself. "And I'm in love with Harry."

"Me too, with Louis," said Harry.

"No, I mean, I can't believe it took you so long," said Zayn. "I don't know what you guys were waiting for. Anyone could see you were meant to be together. Am I right Perrie? Didn't you ask me, within our first few dates, if Harry and Louis were together?"

"I did ask that," said Perrie. "I thought you two seemed so natural together."

"So, it doesn't bother you?" said Louis.

"Not at all. It makes me happy. If you're happy, I'm happy. Have you told the others yet?"

"Yes. We've been going door-to-door."

"So I'm the last to know?"

"Only by ten minutes or so."

"How did Liam take it?"

"He was fine," said Harry. "He said all he wanted was for us to be happy."

"That's all I want for you, too. Like how me and Perrie are. Have you told Eleanor? Harry, have you told your girlfriend?"

"We've told them," said Louis. "They didn't take it so well."

"Man, I bet Eleanor's taking it hard. She really fell for you, Louis. I could tell it was going to end in disaster, but neither of you would have welcomed me butting in."

"No, you're right. This is something I had to figure out on my own," said Louis.

"Same here," said Harry. "I feel sorry for Kathleen, for leading her on, but I honestly thought I had no chance with Louis, what with Eleanor and all."

"And I thought I had no chance with Harry due to his playboy reputation, which I'd been subject to," said Louis.

"As long as you guys are working it out now, the past doesn't matter," said Zayn.

"You're right, Zayn. The past shouldn't matter. We're moving forwards, not backwards."

"Perrie?" said Zayn.

"I'm so happy for you guys," said Perrie. "I hope you've found true love, like I have with Zayn."

"True love," said Zayn, arm around Perrie, squeezing her shoulder. "You can't go past it."

By this stage Louis and Harry were more relaxed with each other in company. Louis nudged Harry. "True love," he said.

Harry couldn't prevent himself from jumping on him, moving their lips together, kissing into the warmth of his mouth. Eventually they pulled away, eyes only for each other.

"Sorry, Zayn," said Louis, still looking at Harry like he was the most amazing thing ever.

"No problem," said Zayn. "I know what it's like. So Perrie, you have to go now?"

"I'd better. I'm late."

"We're sorry to hold you up," said Harry sincerely.

"That's okay. It was worth it. And don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

"We appreciate it," said Louis, as Perrie kissed Zayn and walked out the door.

"So what took you so long?" Zayn asked, when Perrie had left. 

"Just, I couldn't believe Harry would return my feelings," said Louis.

"Same here," said Harry. "I thought Louis was in love with Eleanor."

"What a mess," said Zayn. "Still, it's sorting itself out now."

"I have to go phone back Eleanor," said Louis, "convince her I wasn't joking."

"She thought you were joking? Man, that's rough."

"She thought one of you lads had put me up to it. No matter how much I tried to convince her it was real, she wouldn't accept it."

"To be honest, I can't blame her, mate. You did lead her on, even if you had a good reason thinking Harry didn't return your feelings or whatever."

"I know," said Louis. "I'd better go phone her now. Thanks Zayn." Zayn stood up and Louis hugged him, 

Hrry reciprocated. "I really appreciate you, Zayn. Thanks for everything."

"Not a problem. Any time either of you wants to talk, I'm here, remember that."

They walked back to their flat, both bare-footed, both contemplative. At the door to their flat, Louis said, "I really should phone Eleanor. She's been leaving enough messages."

"Yeah, you should. It's not going to go away."

Louis headed off upstairs to grab his phone, Harry flopped down on the couch and put on the TV. He wondered how long they had until the magazine intervew. Louis was much better at keeping track of these things than he was.

Eventually, Louis came back downstairs, looking dejected. "She still won't accept it, Harry," he said, snuggling up to Harry's side. 

"What time do we need to get ready for this interview?" 

"Soon. Very soon. In fact, right now would be a good idea."

Harry cuddled and kissed Louis, before getting up. "At least Kathleen hasn't called me back."

"You're lucky," said Louis. 

He wasn't so lucky, when he reached his room. Amongst more messages from Eleanor, there was a voice-mail from Kathleen. It said, 'Harry, if you're listening, pick up! Okay, I guess you're not listening. Look, I don't want to break it off. I have feelings for you, Harry Styles. Please call me back.'

Harry deleted the message. There was nothing to be gained by calling Kathleen back, only further heartache, so why bother? He deleted all the ones from Eleanor, too, sure he was the last person she wanted to speak to. Or rather, she might want to speak to him, but it wouldn't be friendly.

Instead, he got ready for the magazine interview. He kept his clothes on, but added a nice jacket. And put some shoes on. He went to see what Louis was doing. Louis was getting dressed nicely, too, trousers, a pair of braces, a jacket, his old denim one. Louis clearly wanted to be comfortable at this interview.

"Have you put a belt on, Harry?" siad Louis, brushing his hair. "You don't want your pants to fall down."

"No. Okay. I'd better put a belt on." Harry went back to his room and added a belt, buckling it at his arse. He liked to have his trousers loose around his hips. It felt freer.

He met up with Louis in the main room. "Time to go to Liam's," said Louis.

Harry followed him to Liam's flat. Louis knocked on the door. "You ready, Liam?" he called.

Liam came hustling to the door soon afterwards. "Of course I'm ready. I've been ready for a while."

"We're just on our way to collect the other guys," explained Harry. "Is Danielle still over?" 

"No, she had somewhere to go." Liam came out into the hallway with them. "How did it go with the other guys, you telling them, and all?"

"Niall and Zayn were great," said Harry. "We couldn't have hoped for a more positive reaction."

"I told you," said Liam. They knocked on Niall's door. Niall opened up, looking all ready to conquer the magazine interviewer, with his hoodie and jeans and hi-tops. 

"We're just going to grab Zayn," Liam told him, and they walked the short distance to Zayn's flat, where Zayn was, fortunately, also ready. They filed into Zayn's flat, taking up positions on the couches.

"The driver will call me when they're here," said Liam, like that was anything new. Everyone by now knew to call Liam when they wanted something done. They chatted for a bit. Nothing was said about Harry and Louis, although Harry had the feeling they strongly wanted to talk about it amongst themselves.

Not long afterwards, Liam's phone buzzed. "That's our transport," he said, and they made their way down to the carpark area. The guys respectfully left a seat for Harry and Louis, cramping up together, and off they went.

***

As soon as they sat down in the chairs provided for them, Harry knew he wasn't up for it. Louis was across the room from Harry; somehow they'd gotten separated in the scramble for seats. Harry couldn't stop looking at him. He could still barely believe it. Louis, his. After all this time. His. Louis looked comfortable in his chair, sitting up straight, eyes alert to the interviewer. It must be nice to be nearly twenty-one, thought Harry, aware that he was getting turned on. Fortunately his jeans were, as usual, hanging low, so hopefully no one could tell. He tried to get Louis to look at him. It became a game. One that he was losing. Louis kept smiling brightly at the interviewer. Louis was killing him, here. 

The interviewer asked a question about how easy it had been to record their new album, a question they'd been asked fifty times already, and Harry jumped in to answer. "This album was much easier to record than our first. We were more familiar with the studio environment, more understanding of everyone's roles. We knew what the techs, what the producer was doing this time around, what they wanted and all that."

He glanced over at Louis. Louis was finally looking at him. Time stopped for a moment as they gazed at each other.

"That's the first question you've answered all interview, Harry. Feeling a little out of sorts?" asked the interviewer.

Harry dragged his eyes away from Louis. Louis was biting his lip, which didn't help Harry's hard-on. "Yeah, not in the mood," he said honestly.

"How can we put you in the mood? I'd like to make you comfortable."

Niall, next to Louis, stood up. "I know how." He came over to Harry's seat. Niall was swapping seats with him. Harry stood up and walked, arm across his crotch in as casually an awkward way as possible, to Niall's vacated seat. He had to adjust himself. But the interviewer was looking right at him. 

"Simple as that?" she said.

"I dunno," said Harry, wishing she'd take her attention off him. "Maybe if we all play musical chairs I'd feel better."

The lads obliged, all getting up and swapping seats. Louis swapped, too, to Harry's other side. 

"Better, Harry?" said the interviewer, who was called Candace.

Harry giggled. That had been funny. All the lads were laughing. "Yeah, maybe," he said.

"I understand you've got a new girlfriend."

Harry immediately stopped feeling amused. "Where did you hear that?"

"A photographer sent us some snaps of you and a girl having a couple of nights out together." Candace handed him over a few photo printouts. Kathleen and him at the restaurant; Kathleen and him dancing at the nightclub.

"No, she's not my girlfriend," said Harry, feeling sorry for Kathleen. "She's just a female friend. We're not together."

"The restaurant scene looks awfully intimate."

"I was just thanking her for something," said Harry lamely.

"You're kissing," contradicted Candace.

"All right, so she's a girl I went out with a couple of times, but I'm not seeing her any more."

"Why not? She's stunning."

"It's not all about looks," said Harry.

"I didn't mean to imply that. Why did you break up with her?"

An awkward silence ensued. 

Niall said, "Because he's in love with Louis." And cracked up with laughter.

They all cracked up, even Louis, after a couple of seconds. It was true, they all knew it, but they knew that Candace didn't, so it was an opportunity for a laugh.

"And how do you feel about that, Louis?" asked Candace.

"Just fine," said Louis, sounding like he was taking it in his stride. "I love him back."

The lads howled with laughter. Harry himself was laughing, too. It felt good to hear it, even though there was no way Candace believed them. Too much had been made of their bromance in the past for the press to seriously believe any of it. 

Finally Candace took her eyes off him, and he could readjust himself to the right. That had been getting uncomfortable, the top of his fly, his belt, chafing against his cock, sending more sensations through him every time he moved. 

"All right, mate?" whispered Louis.

"Now that I've shifted myself, yeah. It was getting uncomfortable."

"Are you turned on?" 

"A little bit."

"Poor baby. I remember being eighteen."

"It's not because I'm eighteen, it's because you're so sexy."

Candace had been asking questions of the other boys, but now she intruded once again. Intruded probably wasn't fair; the lady was only doing her job after all, but he missed Louis' lips against his ear. 

"Care to share, Harry?" she said.

"No. Secret men's business."

"You're not a feminist, Harry?"

"No, I'm a feminist," said Harry. "I believe in equal rights, in equal pay, for women. We should all be equal, regardless of our gender."

"What about the rest of you boys? How do you feel about women's rights?"

They all answered emphatically in the affirmative, echoing Harry's words. Louis added, "The idea that there's people out there, unappreciated or even abused simply because they're women, is anathema to us. We're utterly for women's rights."

"I'm glad to hear it," smiled Candace. The interview went on a bit longer, obviously off the topic of questions that Candace had before her, as they delved into human rights violations and torture. Some very serious issues, which Harry was happy to chime in on. It wasn't something he'd thought about a lot, but it was something he should find more out about. Candace suggested he get onto Amnesty International. You could learn things from good interviewers. 

"Guys," said Candace, "it's been great talking to you. That's a wrap. I'd love to stay here and chat some more but I have a feeling you'd rather move on, so I'll let you all go."

"Thanks, Candace," they chorused, and, as she came forward for a hug, the guys all oblighed her. Finally, she left the suite, along with her entourage.

"Whew," Harry sat back in his seat, spreading his legs. He needed some room.

"What's going on, boys?" said Paul.

"What do you mean?" asked Harry.

"Specifically you, Harry. What was up with you for the first half of the interview? All you did was stare at Louis."

"Who wouldn't?" said Louis, with a preening look on his face.

"You idiot," said Liam, leaning across Harry and shoving Louis playfully.

"I'm serious, Harry," said Paul. "What's going on? Is there something I should know?"

You couldn't hide anything from Paul. He kew them too well. 

"Well... ah... " he looked at Louis. Louis looked back at him. The preening look had gone and he just looked nervous.

"We have to tell him," Harry whispered in his ear.

"I know. But..."

"Don't you two play the whisper game, I want the truth. What's going on?" demanded Paul.

"We're together," said Harry.

"Together as in... togther? Having sex?"

"Yes," said Harry defiantly.

"Oh no," groaned Paul. "I just knew this was going to happen one day."

"We don't want to tell anyone, if that's what you're worried about. We want to keep our privacy."

"That's not what I'm worried about,' said Paul. "I'm worried about you two imploding. I'm worried about how this will affect the band."

"We've all talked about it," said Liam. "It's fine by all of us."

"Two people, in a band, in a relationship, everything gets magnified. The slightest disagreement will have them forcing you to take sides. You don't want that, do you?"

"Louis and Harry wouldn't force us to take sides," said Liam confidently.

"Yeah," said Louis, "if it fizzles out, my first priority is to One Direction."

"Same here," said Harry.

"Good to know. I only hope that holds true when the crunch comes."

"This band is the most important thing that's happened to me. Even if I split with Louis--which I won't--the band will come first, always."

"Okay, I won't harrass you about it any further for now," said Paul. "But if either of you needs to talk, call me. I'm always here for you."

"Thanks, Paul," said Louis. 

That was it. Harry felt relived. Paul was okay--well, okay enough--with things between him and Louis. Still, Paul took him aside as the rest of the band left the suite. "Harry, you're only eighteen. Are you sure about this?"

"Of course I'm sure. I wouldn't have split up with my girlfriend if I wasn't."

"Girlfriend? The one you mentioned in the breakfast TV interview? The one the magazine had photos of?"

"Yes, that was her."

"Has Louis split with Eleanor?"

"Yes."

"I need to know these things, Harry."

"Louis could have told you," said Harry defensively.

"Louis indeed could have told me, and he'll be getting a stern word in the ear. But Harry. Look, all I want is for you to be happy. I'm just not sure that being with Louis is a great idea."

"You'd rather I was with a girl."

"Yes, I'd rather that, I admit it."

"You don't want me to be happy."

"Now Harry, that's not what I'm saying. If Louis makes you happy, then all my arguments are moot. I just want you to be sure. It'll get out somehow, and you have to be prepared for that day."

"It shouldn't get out."

"Who else knows?"

"The lads, their girlfriends, except for Niall's, though he might tell her, and of course Eleanor and Kathleen."

"We've adjudged Danielle and Perrie to be stable," said Paul. "The jury's still out on Niall's girlfriend."

"You judge whether our girlfriends are stable?"

"It's a part of the job. You don't want to be hit up by some whacko who goes around selling her story to whoever, do you? Don't worry, Harry, I'm not breathing down your neck twenty-four hours a day. I just need to be kept informed."

"Okay. So now you know."

"Now I know," agreed Paul.

Liam popped back into the room at that moment. "Harry?"

"We're coming," said Paul. "I just wanted to make sure things were clear."

"You've done that," muttered Harry.

"Good. Go out and enjoy yourself."

Harry left, following Liam, Paul following him. The band were waiting in the next room. He looked at Louis, then quickly looked away again. He'd seen the questioning look in Louis' eyes and didn't feel up to answering it right now.

Of course, he couldn't escape. "What did Paul say to you?" said Louis.

"I don't think he's happy with us."

"Bugger him, then,"

"Louis, don't be so direct."

"I mean it. If he doesn't like it, he can bugger off."

"We have a contract."

"Which I believe says nothing about two band members getting into a gay relationship."

"No, it doesn't," said Harry, breathing freely for the first time in minutes.

"Don't worry, Harry. We're not contravening our contract. Paul will just have to live with it."

That he would, thought Harry. He wasn't giving Louis up for the world, not now that he finally had him. Louis and One Direction; he could have both, he was sure.

***  
They came home with indian take-away, which they all shared, in Niall's flat this time. Harry didn't want to waste time eating when he could be having sex but Louis seemed keen so he had to go along with it. Harry scarfed his food down and waited impatiently for Louis. Louis, frustratingly, was taking his time, chatting to Liam about something he really didn't need to be chatting about, not when Harry was feeling so horny.

"Louis," he interrupted. Both Louis and Liam stared at him. Okay, so he'd sounded a little whiny.

"What is it?" 

"Haven't you finished yet?"

Louis looked down at his plate. "Apparently not, as you can see."

"When are you going to be finished?"

Niall grinned. "Someone's horny." You couldn't put anything past Niall; he was too observant.

"I'll be finished soon," said Louis.

Harry abruptly stood up. "I'm going to the flat. I'll be waiting for you." The guys all 'whoo-hoo'd and Harry knew he was making a scene but he couldn't help it. He tried to reign himself in. "See you later guys. Thanks for all your support," he said, and left.

***

Back at the flat, Harry wandered up and down the main room. When was Louis going to come back? It seemed an age, but eventually he heard the key turn in the lock and, as soon as Louis was in, leapt upon him, kissing him with ferociousity. Louis' head banged back against the door.

"Ow."

"Sorry," said Harry, rubbing Louis' head. "I didn't mean to hurt you. It's just, mmm," and he dived in for another kiss. Louis reciprocated. He couldn't taste Louis under the strength of the spicy take-away they'd shared but that didn't lessen the sensuousness of the kiss. Harry's tongue licked all around Louis', trying to remove the spicy taste. "I want you," he breathed into Louis' mouth, pressing his body, with his hardening cock, against Louis. 

"Slow down, Harry. I don't want to get off against the front door."

"What took you so long?"

"I had to help with the washing up."

"Grr. Why do you do dishes at other people's places but never here?"

"We're not going to have a dishes argument again, are we?"

"No, I want you too much right now. We can throw the plates out for all I care." He was kissing Louis again, He couldn't get enough of his mouth. He ran his hands down the sides of Louis' body, as Louis grabbed him around the back. The kiss intensified, and for a time it seemed as if all they'd ever done was kiss, the moment suspended in time. Harry moved his hands under Louis' jacket, feeling his ribs through his shirt. "Get your clothes off," he said.

"Honey, let's take it to the bedroom, shall we?" said Louis, even as Harry was stripping Louis' jacket off. 

"Want you now."

"But it could get messy."

"Hell yeah, it's gonna get messy. Since when do you care about mess?"

"I care when it's spunk on the living room floor."

"Louis, you're killing me," said Harry, but he left off molesting Louis for a moment and gathered himself. Louis meanwhile shucked his jacket down over his wrists; Harry had already got it most of the way down.

"Your room or mine?"

Harry thought of Eleanor, in Louis' bed. He had to erase that image and replace it; had to mark his territory. "Yours," he said.

"Come on." Louis abruptly pulled away from him and raced up the stairs.

"Come back here!" yelled Harry, and chased after him. He caught up with him in Louis' room, and wrestled him to the bed, holding him by the wrists and kissing him senseless.

"Harry, oh my god, you're such a good kisser."

"Damn this indian food."

"Yeah. I can't taste you properly."

"We could always clean our teeth."

"Then we'd just taste like mint instead."

"You're right. Forget that idea, too much time-wasting," said Harry. Louis took the opportunity to free his wrists and flip them over, so that he was on top. They kissed again, and Harry was aware of Louis' hard-on against his stomach. "Harry, you're wearing too many clothes."

"So are you."

"Let's rectify that." 

After another kiss, Harry pulled away and stripped off as quickly as possible, dumping his clothes by the side of the bed. "Louis Tomlinson, you're not getting into this bed wearing underwear," growled Harry, noticing Louis was going to do exactly that. 

"I thought you'd like to take them off me."

Harry suddenly decided this was a good idea. "Get in," he said, hopping under the covers himself. He ran his hands down Louis' back, mapping the curves, hand settling on his arse. Such a perfect arse, even if it was currently clothed. He rubbed Louis as they kissed again. "I've waited all day for this. I don't know how long I can last."

"Maybe I'd better not touch you, then," said Louis, even as his hand trailed down to Harry's bare arse and massaged. Harry couldn't tolerate it for too long; he was too turned on. He got up, above Louis, and abruptly pulled his underwear down. Louis' cock sprang free. Louis was just as turned on as he was, his cock already leaking precum. Harry threw himself back onto Louis and they rubbed up against each other. Louis moaned, making Harry's cock jump. 

"Harry, Harry, I need to get my underwear off properly."

"Serve you right for getting into bed with them on." But Harry rolled off him, allowing Louis to yank his underwear off over his feet and off the side of the bed onto his clothes. "Much better," said Harry, leaning back over him, propping his arms by Louis' head, and rubbing their cocks together rhythmically. He looked down. The light was on, and they only had a light sheet covering them, so he could see everything as his cock bumped and slid against Louis'. It was the hottest thing. Even more so that himself and Louis were leaking precum onto each other. Harry reached down and touched Louis' balls, rolling them together, beofre grabbing Louis' cock, caressing it just short of total desperation. Louis moaned again, and Harry took both of them in his hand. It was lucky he had big hands, but even then, it was hard to keep a grip on the both of them. Still, he persisted, the sensations amazing. The precum lubed his hand and made it easier for him to jerk them both off. Louis, breathing heavily, occasionally calling out, moved his hands to Harry's arse again. 

"Haz, it's so good."

"I'm gonna make it even better."

"I'm close."

"Me too." Harry cried out as Louis slid a finger up and down his arse crack, touching against his anus repeatedly. "Oh, Louis. That feels so good."

"You're so sexy."

Harry jerked them harder. He was so close. He leaned back down to kiss Louis again. One final duel of tongues was all it took; he was cumming, all over Louis. He stopped kissing Louis and watched as the last of his load shot out, onto Louis' chest. That was so hot. 

"Harry, don't stop." Louis writhed under him. Harry, though his aftershocks, put his fist around Louis' cock again, and brought him to the brink almost instantly. 

"Harry. Fuck. Oh, I'm cumming." Louis was as good as his word; he shot over his chest, over Harry's hand. Harry kept pulling at him until Louis sighed, "No more, Harry. I'm too sensitive."

Harry licked his hand. Louis looked at him with sultry eyes, caressing Harry's body. Harry lay down beside him and kissed him, knowing Louis was tasting his own cum, thinking how unbearably hot that was. They kissed for a little while, then Louis sat up. "Wait a minute, Haz. I'll just clean myself off." He grabbed a tissue, gave one to Harry, and they both wiped up any major traces of cum on their bodies. Harry left his cock alone, though. He had a feeling he wanted to be lubed up. This wasn't over with, yet.

"So, Paul really had a go at you, huh?" said Louis.

"He thinks I'm too young to be making my own decisions. He doesn't realise how much I've matured--had to mature--in the past couple of years."

"I love Paul, but fuck him when it comes to us," said Louis decisively. "You're mine, you always will be." He bit down suddenly in the fleshy spot between Harry's shoulder and neck. He sucked and sucked, as Harry writhed. It went straight to his cock, which was hardening again.

"Oh, Louis," he moaned, and Louis finished the love-bite and kissed up Harry's neck instead. 

"You're hard again," said Louis, as they pressed together. 

"Can you get it up again?"

"Of course. Just give me a few." In the meantime they kissed languidly, and caressed each other. Soon enough, Harry could feel Louis getting hard again. 

"I want to go all the way," he said.

Louis stopped, at that. "I don't know if I'm ready," he whispered.

"You can fuck me."

"Love, this is a big step."

"I came because you touched me on my hole. I'm ready."

"It'll be different once we're fucking."

"It'll be just as good. No, better."

Louis caressed Harry's arse cheeks. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"How do we do this?"

"Use your fingers. First one, then two, then three."

"Into you?"

"Yes."

Louis grabbed the box of tissues and put it down on the bed next to his pillow. "All right, but if I hurt you or anything, tell me, right?"

"You won't hurt me," said Harry confidently. He'd heard from some quarters that it hurt, but from just as many that it didn't. He trusted the sources that said it didn't hurt more than the others because by and large they had been gay guys. Being relaxed was the key, he knew. He wsn't going to worry, and everything would be fine.

Louis sat up again and grabbed some lube and a condom from his drawer. "You ready for this?"

"I'm ready."

Louis poured some lube out and moved his finger up and down against Harry's crack. It felt good. "You okay?"

"I'm great. Get on with it, Louis."

Louis pushed a finger into him. Harry relaxed, despite the unusual sensation, and soon enough Louis was adding two fingers. This felt much better. This felt like aces, actually. Louis moved his fingers around inside Harry, rolling them, stroking gently. 

"Aah," Harry moaned.

"You okay?"

"Louis, I'm great. You're not going to hurt me, I promise."

"Is it okay if I add three fingers?"

"It's mandatory." Harry felt the bulk of Louis' hand slip inisde him, and all he felt was the greatness of it all. This felt so good. The only thing better would be.... "Louis. Fuck me."

Louis pulled away abruptly. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. I'm ready. It doesn't hurt in the least."

"I thought it was supposed to."

"Those who say so are wrong. Come on, Louis. Fuck me."

Louis breathed heavily, and bit his lip, then grabbed for the box of tissues, cleaning his fingers. He rolled a condom on. Then he reached for the lube again, stroking himself. Harry moaned at the sight of Louis feeling himself up, even if he was sheathed in a condom.

"Get in me, Louis."

"If I hurt you-"

"You won't hurt me. Louis, push in already." Harry turned back around, so that he was on his stomach.

Louis positioned his cock, and carefully pushed into Harry. There was no pain. None at all. All those who said there was must be lying, or frigid. All he felt was his arse fill up, as Louis' warm cock entered him. Louis began to move, in and out. Forget hot, this was amazing. 

"Louis, I want you deeper. I'm getting up on my knees." Louis pulled out and waited as Harry did so, caressing his sides. 

"You ready?" asked Louis.

"Yes. Hurry up."

Louis pushed back into him again, carefully. He moved in and out in slow, languid strokes, then began to speed up. Louis was fucking him. God, it felt so good.

Louis touched his cock, and Harry nearly came right then. "Louis, don't. I'm too close."

"How can you be so close?"

"You've no idea how this feels, do you?"

"No," admitted Louis. "I always thought it was supposed to hurt."

"It doesn't. It feels, I can't describe it. Oh, Louis. Don't stop."

"I won't," promised Louis, pushing in deeper and deeper. Harry couldn't believe the sensations he was feeling. He thought it would be equivalent to getting pulled off, or sucked off. But this was different. This was expanding his sexual experience like nothing he could have imagined. Louis occasionally hit up against what he presumed was his prostate, and things were even more incredible then. 

"God, Louis," he moaned. "I need to touch myself."

Louis wrapped a fist possessively around Harry's cock at that. Harry almost couldn't deal with the sensations. The sensations in his arse, as he was fucked by Louis. The sensations in his cock, as he was jerked off by Louis. He babbled, "Fuck me, Louis, oh, fuck me."

Louis responded by slamming balls-deep into him. "Hazza, you're fucking amazing."

It was all too much. Harry came, explosively, all over Louis' pillow and down the bed. 

"You've cum," said Louis. "Can I keep going or..."

"Keep going," said Harry. It wasn't long before Louis got off; he could tell by the sudden rythmn change, the shudders in Louis' body. Louis pulled out of him almost immediately, and Harry felt the loss acutely. To have Louis inside of him had been the most intense experience. 

"I'll just throw this in the bin," said Louis. Harry lay on his stomach, face in Louis' pillow in his own cum, not caring. Louis quickly came back, and snuggled against him, softening cock against his arse. 

"Louis, that was the most amazing experience of my life."

"Better than going number one in the charts? It's okay, I know exactly how you feel." Louis cuddled him around his neck and around his body. "It was amazing."

"I can't believe I just got fucked by Louis Tomlinson. How many people in the world are jealous of me right now?"

"Don't think about it. Just let it be."

Harry turned around to face him. "Let it be," he murmured into Louis' collarbone. The Beatles. Comfort music of his childhood. 

Louis stroked him, short and then long and then short strokes down his back. Harry couldn't get to grip with the sensations. He was getting hard--again. "Mmm, Louis," he murmured, positioning his cock so that it was against Louis'. 

"You can't possibly be hard again."

"I’m eighteen and horny. You can't blame me."

"I don't blame you, love, it's just that I can't believe you're this horny for me. I mean, me."

"What do you mean, you? You're wonderful, Louis. You're everything I wished for, and more. I can't believe how good it is between us."

"I always thought I was pretty average," admitted Louis, curling in close to Harry's neck.

"Louis, you're so sexy, a word hasn't been invented for it yet."

Louis pulled back, looked seriously into his eyes. "I feel the same way. Harry, you're so amazing. I can't believe I just fucked you."

Harry's cock jerked, again. He really had to settle down. Louis didn't appear to be getting it back up. "Can we go again?" Harry asked anyway.

"You're insatiable."

"I can't help it, with such a hot guy in bed with me."

"Harry, we don't need to do everything at once. Bask in the moment. Here, let me give you that promised rub-down. Come on, lie down on your stomach."

Harry adjusted himself into a comfortable position on his stomach and Louis began to massage his neck, fingers hitting tight spots Harry hadn't even known were there. His hands moved to Harry's shoulders, then eventually, down his back, massaging the muscles with firm circles. It was bliss. It also wasn't helping his horniness. 

"Mmm," moaned Harry.

"You okay?"

"I'm so very okay."

Louis continued, down his arms, to his hands, massaging his palms, the backs of his hands, each of his fingers. Harry was blissed out. He rolled over onto his back. The sheet was off him and his cock sprang free from where it had been trapped against the bed. He was lying in a wet spot. He didn't care. He looked as wantonly as he possibly could at Louis. "Louis, touch me, please."

Gently, Louis reached his hand out, and, almost reverently, stroked Harry's cock, moving the foreskin gently up and down. He cuddled up beside Harry, and kissed him slowly, languidly. 

Harry didn't put up with the languidness for long. "Faster," he told Louis. Louis moved his hand down to Harry's balls and then back up his shaft. He did that a few times. "Oh, yeah. Fuck yeah," as Louis massaged under the head of his cock, before returning to jerking him off. Louis kept doing that, jacking him for a while, then giving his balls some attention. Meanwhile, Louis' other hand was tracing over Harry's chest, fondling his nipples. Harry couldn't believe it, but his chest was turned on. It was all going straight to his cock, too.

"Feel good?" asked Louis.

"Feels amazing. Are you hard?"

"Don't worry about me." Harry tried to see, and flailed a hand down to Louis' cock. He was half-hard. "I'm loving this," said Louis. "Let me just do this for you. I want to watch you all the way." He kissed Harry again, deeply, thoughtfully, and Harry responded with eagerness, wanting Louis' tongue against his, wanting everything of Louis. Louis spread Harry's legs a little and hooked his own leg over Harry's. The sensations in his mouth, on his chest, his cock, were quickly making Harry lose it. He writhed against Louis, moaning unashamedly. His cock was so sensitised.

"I love you like this, Harry."

"Mmm, Louis."

"I love watching you get off under my hands." He kissed Harry's ear. "I love watching you cum. How close are you?"

"Close. Faster, Louis."

But Louis was content to torture him, alternating bursts of jacking with bursts of caressing. 

"Louis, please. Get me off." He writhed some more, almost unable to stand the sensations. This was taking a long time because he'd already come twice, and every moment was an aching, torturing bliss all over his body. Eventually he could feel it, the surge. "Louis, I'm cumming. Faster." This time Louis obliged him, fist slippery on Harry's cock with all the precum that had leaked from the tip, rubbing his thumb over the tip every second or third tug. "Louis," groaned Harry. "Oh, Louis." Louis' fingers squeezed one of his nipples. That was it, Harry was cumming, crying out Louis' name and a bunch of other things that he couldn't concentrate on, the sensations too overwhelming in his body, which threshed wildly on the bed. Louis' tongue was still in his mouth, thrusting with each pulse from Harry's cock. He then pulled his mouth away, and Harry moaned, "No, kiss me."

"Shh. I want to watch. God Harry, you're so hot."

He was still cumming. Harry moaned Louis' name again and Louis returned his mouth to Harry's, obviously having satisfied himself. Harry didn't know where his hands were, only that they were gripping something. Something ripped, and Louis snickered and said, "That's my sheet, Harry."

"Oh god," said Harry. He could barely open his eyes. "Louis, you've killed me."

"I take it it was a pleasant death?"

"Your hands, your mouth, god, your mouth," Harry opened his eyes properly and plunged back into Louis' mouth. Louis was still stroking, and now it was becoming agonising, but he nevertheless didn't want it to stop. Soon after, however, Louis stopped milking Harry's cock and drew his hand up Harry's chest. 

Harry felt him break the kiss and stretch over him. He was grabbing a handful of tissues. "You're a mess, love."

"Leave it. I want to wallow."

So Louis merely wiped his own hand, and turned his attention to Harry's chest again, tracing fingers through the puddles of cum. "I have one totally debauched boy in my bed," said Louis.

"You can have me forever. Louis, I'm exhausted."

"I'm not surprised. You need to give your balls a rest now, they need to make more swimmers."

"Swimmers?"

"Tiny little swimmers, all over your chest."

Harry laughed. Louis was so cute. Louis smiled down at him, and Harry looked up, astounded at his luck. Just three days ago, there was no hope of this. And now... now he had all he had ever wanted. "Um, do you need..."

"No," said Louis, although he was mostly hard. "My swimmers aren't up to it."

"Swimmers," giggled Harry. "If I wasn't so tired..."

"I'm tired too, baby. Let's clean you up, hmm? And get some sleep."

Harry finally conceeded to Louis' unexpected urge to clean him up--why was Louis so slobby in every day life, and so clean in bed?--lying there, taking the stroking of tissues over his body. He was limp. He didn't think he could move. He'd had all movement threshed out of him by Louis' expert hand. 

Louis left his side, presumably to go to the bin, then turned the light out and came back, sliding in next to Harry and pulling the blankets up. "My love," he whispered in Harry's ear.

"Louis, I'm the luckiest boy in the world."

"No, I am," contradicted Louis. "You're so amazing, you know that?"

"You're the amazing one. I thought this morning was good. This morning was nothing."

"No, we were pretty fumbly this morning. I'm still pretty fumbly. I'm glad I could get you off."

"You were perfect. I've never been jacked like that before. It's indescribable how good it was."

"I've never seen so much cum coming from one dick."

"How many dicks have you seen cum coming from?"

"Just yours and mine. But I never shot a load like that last one of yours. You were going forever."

"Mmm." Harry snuggled into Louis, bringing his free arm around Louis' back. Louis' arms were under him around his neck, and on his back, rubbing circles into it. For a while, Harry forgot the world, just let himself doze under Louis caress, trying to return it. They had things to worry about in the future. One; they had to remain on Paul's good side, or he could make life unhappy for them. Two; should they go public? Harry did and didn't want people to know. He wanted them to know, because he was so proud of being with Louis, but on the other hand, their privacy would be invaded. The press would be a nightmare. The fans; how would they react? It had to be out by now that Louis had split with Eleanor; he didn't know how the fans would feel about that, either. 

But for now, he didn't care. He had Louis, and that was all he needed right now. 

"Louis?"

"Yes, love?"

"I'm so in love with you. I can't believe all the time we've missed out on."

"We'll make it up," promised Louis, still caressing him. They talked a little more, and then Harry began dozing off again. The circles on his back stopped. Louis was asleep. Harry listened to his rhythmic breathing, wondering at his luck. Louis was his, and it was all he ever wanted. He felt himself falling asleep, his last awareness of how warm and snuggled his body felt, up against Louis.


End file.
